A Jesuit's Journey

Recharging

2012-01-23T06:54:00.000-05:00

I apologize for the lag in posting over the last week. The tragedy of two weeks ago is still fresh in my own heart and, each time I have sat down to do some writing, I just can't bring myself to do it. It's not depression, I'm sure, but it is a sense that in the wake of unthinkable evil it is hard to reclaim ones voice. If last week I found my voice in re-articulating Father Kiser's message of hope, the intervening days have found me somewhat quiet and pensive.

This post, I hope, will lead to a thaw and allow the juices to flow once again.

There's not much new happening on my front. Last week occasioned the visit of our provincial and then, on Friday, a trip to the Detroit Automotive Show. This week I have to plan a rally (Friday) and a dinner for parents who purchased a dinner with "Mr. Duns and the Senate Officers" to be hosted here. Fortunately, these are parents I know pretty well and I know that the fastest way to their stomachs...is through a bottle of Chianti. My plan is to give cooking lessons to the Officers as we prepare the meal for the parents, which is either an inspired idea or a recipe for disaster. We shall see.

Where is the light in the midst of Tragedy?

2012-01-13T08:45:00.001-05:00

Our first semester ended yesterday, not with great fanfare, but as an eery mirror to the way it began: in prayer. Back in August, we began the 2011-12 academic year with a festive Mass of the Holy Spirit. Yesterday, after the second exam, our students gathered in the Chapel of the North American Martyrs to pray for one of our students whose parents had died two nights earlier in a tragic murder-suicide.

Father Karl Kiser, the President and CPO (Chief Pastoral Officer - my title for him), led the assembly in a prayer service. We sang, we prayed two psalms, we listened to Scripture. Yet it was when Father Kiser spoke, it was when he addressed the community, that I beheld the true power of prayer and the grace of God.

Father Kiser began by saying, "There are no answers to this tragedy." He drew a parallel with Job, who demanded that God account for the tragedies that had befallen him and his family, and God responded. Out of the depths of the whirlwind God responds:

Who is this who darkens counsel with words of ignorance?

Gird up your loins - now, like a man; I will question you, and you tell me the answers!

Where were you when I founded the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding.

Who determined its size? Surely you know?

Who stretched out the measuring line for it?

Into what were its pedestals sunk, and who laid its cornerstone,

while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?

Job 38

It is natural for our belief in God to be challenged in these situations. "If there is a good, and powerful, and loving God," the question pierces the heart, "how was this allowed to happen? Where was God? Where is God? Is there a God?"

There is no good answer to the mystery of evil. There are no words that remove its sting, no theories that neutralize its poison. My heart breaks for the student's family and I, too, must raise the question, "Where the hell is God?"

Father Kiser continued. Looking out at a body of people ranging in age from 7th graders to the most veteran teachers, he made the very powerful point, "We are to be the answer to prayer." When this family struggles for support, it is our hands that will clasp him. When this student falters, it is we who will bolster him. When this family questions if there is love in the world, we will be the love they feel.

Of late, prayer has gotten something of a bad rap thanks to Tim Tebow. The way Tebow's prayer has been portrayed, that his prayers are calling forth divine intervention in order to win football games while many millions of people starve to death across the world, is more akin to spells and incantations than to prayer. Father Kiser rightly encouraged the congregation that true prayer is not magic, not empty words, not a disengaged activity. Real prayer forces us to roll up our sleeves, dig in, and to be the prayer we offer.

So where do we see God in the midst of tragedy, where is the light? The light shines forth from our hearts, hearts that have been cracked open and pried apart by tragedy. The fissures and cracks of the heart, rather than impeding our love, actually gives us space for love to grow, to pour forth, and to flow into the world. Our prayer does not change God's mind, but it certainly changes our hearts. In love, our hearts reflect into the darkness of the world the true source of light that comes from the Sun who illuminates all of creation.

This light fades and is squelched not by tragedy but by cynicism and hopelessness. When we cover over our hearts and retreat into the cellars of our souls, the light is reduced to the faintest of glimmers. It is only when we make vulnerable our hearts, when we allow them to be wounded by the day-to-day travails, that the painful cracks appear and allow the light within us, God's life within us, to pierce the darkness and light the way. In the days and months ahead, please pray for the family embroiled in this tragedy. Pray, too, that your heart may be cracked, even if just a bit, so that the light in you may shine in the darkness left in the wake of unthinkable violence and senseless death.

The Lamenting Wall

2012-01-12T14:45:00.001-05:00

I'm not really a techie guy - I have an iPhone, a Kindle Fire, and a computer. Sure, I do have some experience with YouTube and with blogging but, in general, I've little knowledge of computers and technology. I'm glad it's there, I'm glad when it is working, but I haven't the foggiest clue as to how it works.

I wish I did.

In addition to www.parishconnect.com, my proposal for a multi-platform site to help women and men interested in finding a 'right fit' parish, I have another idea. Near as I can tell, it will remain only an idea as I haven't the skill to put it into action. Hence my blogging about it: if it is a good idea, viable and helpful to souls, perhaps someone else will pick up on it.

There is a practice, at the "Wailing Wall" of Jerusalem, for pilgrims to place prayer notes into the crevices. I even learned on Wikipedia that one can now email prayers that will be printed and put into the wall. There's something beautiful about the image of many prayers, born out of the hearts of many people, coming together in the fissures of the Wall.

What I would propose is something like a digital Wailing Wall, called www.WhyILeftTheChurch.com. Or www.LamentingWall.com. On this site, users could anonymously write their stories of why they feel no longer able to be in communion with the Catholic Church. These stories would then be digitally 'folded' and put into a virtual wall. Over time, I suspect, we would see many of the joints and cracks and crevices filled with the stories of those who have departed. No comments would be enabled and no registration necessary. Simply stop by, tell your story, and commend it to the Lamenting Wall.

Why this proposal? Because every time we lose a member of the Church, we should feel a sting of lamentation. Every time a sincere seeker throws up her hands and says, "I quit!" we should take a moment to ask, "Why?" We, as a Church, ought to do this because the stories that are posted are the stories of good people who find that they are not being fed at the Lord's table. If, by listening to their stories, we find that there are ways we can help to invite them and those like them back, then we can start to become the change we want to see.

I do not envision this as simply a place where people can moan and complain. I'm also certain that many kooks will show up and write utterly obnoxious things online. If I were in charge of it, I'd enlist the services of some of my Jesuit brothers - those in our nursing facilities, especially - and ask them to take on as a special mission the activity of praying for those who commend their stories to the virtual wall. Perhaps it would be a start to healing wounds to know that, in response to your story, someone is praying for you.

I suspect that one of the great frustrations many people have with the Catholic Church is their experience of not being heard, of feeling as though no one has listened to them. A digital Lamenting Wall certainly would not heal old wounds or change structures, but it might be a beginning. Imagine how an inquisitive bishop, or pastor, or any member of the Church might feel to go online and read the testimonies of people who felt they had to 'vote with their feet.' This might be just the sort of forum where the process of telling one's story might be the start of a spiritual journey home.

As I said the other day, I welcome any and all feedback. I might be totally crazy with these ideas, but I put them out on the blog to see if they gain any traction. If this is of God's spirit, then it will enkindle the hearts of others. If it is simply the product of my own mind, it is doomed to languish in the archives.

To Assist in the Progress of Souls...A Website Idea

2012-01-09T07:27:00.002-05:00

As a vowed member of the Society of Jesus, I take seriously the mission of the Jesuits, expressed succinctly in the apostolic letters Regimini Militantis Ecclesiae and Exposcit Debitum:

...He is a member of a Society founded chiefly for this purpose: to strive especially for the defense and propagation of the faith and for the progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine, by means of public preaching, lectures, and any other ministration whatsoever of the word of God, and further by means of the Spiritual Exercises, the education of children and unlettered persons in Christianity, and the spiritual consolation of Christ's faithful through hearing confessions and administering the other sacraments.

Over the last few years, I have become acutely aware that many Catholics in the United States are not being fed. That is to say, they are coming to the celebration of the Eucharist and leaving hungry. Bad music, inaccessible preaching, unwelcoming communities: each of these is commonly cited as reasons why people stop attending their parishes. Yet, in my experience, young adult Catholics don't really "vote with their feet" and find a new parish to attend. They simply stop attending altogether.

This leads me to make a small proposal, one I'd love to see the Jesuits take on but one, for political reasons, I don't think we'd dare to do.

I would like to think about a site called "www.parishconnect.com" which would effectively be a hybrid of three platforms:

RateMyProfessor.com - there would be a way for registered users to offer evaluations of their parishes. They could fill out short surveys, online, asking about quality of music/preaching/liturgy/community/services and then, where needed, give more information (Latin Mass? Guitars? Kinds of music? Socials for older adults? Social outreach? A COURAGE chapter? Vibrant Choir? Etc.). These "RateMyParish" profiles would be open to the public: maybe it would be good for some of our parishes/pastors/bishops to get a sense of what their dioceses look like.
Match.com - users would fill out a profile indicating what they like in terms of liturgical life and social ministries as well as what their expectations for a parish. We solicit feedback from parishioners about their parish experience - this would provide us with on-the-ground feedback on parish life, give us interesting sociological data, and would help us to match potential parishioners with potential parishes. If users are interested, they might even find vocational support, pre-Cana, Marriage Encounter, Youth Groups, etc.
Masstimes.org - while it would offer any user the times for a parish mass, registered users would have access to (1) evaluations and (2) could be paired up with - a la match.com - with parishes that might match their interests.

I'm thinking from the perspective of my siblings with children. They want to take their kids to Mass, they want to settle into a parish, but they feel like they have to keep shopping around. If they filled out the survey, indicating that good preaching and a strong Religious Ed program were important, perhaps they could be matched with a parish that offers these. When visiting another state, again, it would make finding a Mass less stressful: while not 100% certain, it might help the odds of finding something rewarding.

As a Jesuit professor once expressed it, our recent graduates "are more likely to register at a gym than they are to register in a parish." Even students who faithfully attend liturgies on campus are reluctant to join a parish, as their experiences of (hopefully) dynamic liturgy are dashed in the average parish. Young adults will drive to get a good cup of coffee. They will drive to the mall. They will drive to the gym. They will drive, they will travel, they will come if they (1) know what they are getting and (2) are able to find it.

I have worked out some of the logistical issues - how to register users, how it could be funded, the dual platforms I think would be necessary to make it a viable effort - but those aren't exactly necessary to go into here.

So here's my modest proposal. I'd love to hear feedback on it, especially if this would help Catholics find a spiritual home where they can grow in love for their faith and be fed at the Lord's table. I simply feel it is my duty, wherever and whenever possible, to offer support in this way and the idea of www.parishconnect.com seems one way of doing this.

When Prayer is a Blow to the Ego

2012-01-02T10:46:00.004-05:00

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,

my memory, my understanding,

and my entire will.

All I have and call my own.

You have given all to me.

To you, Lord, I return it.

Everything is yours; do with it what you will.

Give me only your love and your grace,

that is enough for me.

~Saint Ignatius of Loyola

I can speak only for myself, but this prayer scares the hell out of me. In my experience, this is a prayer of radical trust and tremendous risk. It is, ultimately, the prayer that led me to profess vows within the Society of Jesus...it is the prayer I fear I will never fully live into because of my own lack of courage.

The first time I really prayed this prayer was when I was as a novice making the 30-Day Spiritual Exercises in 2005. Throughout the retreat, my heart had been moved by God's unimaginable grace and I wanted...and continue to want...to offer my whole self to the service of God's Kingdom as a Companion of Jesus.

Now, this prayer (fortunately or unfortunately) does not mean that you can return your unruly children or send back your spouse whose snoring keeps you up at night. Would only that God have provided us with such a return policy.

What it means, at least in my experience, is that one needs to surrender his agenda in order to make room for God's agenda. In a sense, it's a totally uneven trade: we give over to the Lord all of those things that we think make us who we and what we think we need and we are given, in exchange, all that we truly need: God's own self, God's own life. In this prayer, I ask nothing less than that God's life become my life.

Let me be transparent: I am seldom possessed of a pure motivation. I try hard to be of an undivided heart, but I am a great sinner. I am ambitious. I am proud. I can be arrogant. I am self-conscious and tempted to be relevant, to be powerful, and to be looked upon as spectacular. I despise hypocrisy probably because it makes me aware of my own hypocritical tendencies. I like to be the go-to guy for information, for advice, and I like to be given the 'special project' because in being chosen above others, it pads my ego and gives me a greater sense of self. For good or for ill, I have a sense of how things ought to be and I seem to have enough of a knack for organizing that I can conceive of how these things might look were I in charge.

I type the above paragraph and I want to delete it because my instinctual desire to have people think well of me is stirred. Let it be counted as a moment of grace that these demons be named.

So when I pray, when I really pray, I feel myself totally displaced from the center of the cosmos that I should like to dwell within. My idea of heaven - where I stand at the center of creation - is shattered and I place, often reluctantly, my whole self in God's hands. When I pray, when I throw myself open to God's creativity and ask that God's life be made my life, I risk being re-created into the man God is trying to form.

Oh, there is resistance to this painful grace. My dark side demands more than God's love. The sinister part of my heart taunts, "How will others know that you are loved if you have nothing to show for it?" This side prods me to jealousy, to comparison with others, and encourages me to rest on laurels or to put myself above others and to cast a haughty and condescending eye toward them. I want riches, I want honors. I want to be measured and compared and valued over-and-against others. I want to be seen as on top and to know that, in being on top, I stand over others.

It is this sinful self that I offer to the Lord when I have the courage to pray the Suscipe (the name of the above prayer). I confront my own limitations and my own agenda and hand myself over to the One who wants to break open my limitations and give me a new agenda. This prayer is nothing less than taking the rough draft I have tried to write with my own life and giving it to the master editor who is going to critique it and help to give it a new direction. If my fragile ego can stand to be told that it is not as good, as wonderful, as powerful, as spectacular as it thinks it is...then it stands to be edited into a work that proclaims the glory of its true Author.

I admit that I don't quite get it right. As I said a moment ago, I have a lot of sinful traits. Nevertheless, I'm joyful that I am learning more about these and I am finding greater courage to make my life into this prayer, to allow it to move from my lips to my heart to my whole self. It is really scary to surrender my way and to accept God's way, because I am not in charge. It is hard to accept God's values because they threaten the values that keep me safe and secure at the center of my self-created universe.

I doubt that I'll ever make myself into an embodiment of this prayer, but maybe that can be a prayer on its own: let me, O Lord, become a living prayer, this living prayer. Let me become a tool of Your holy will, an instrument of Your boundless love, a vessel of Your amazing grace.

God's Invitation

2011-12-28T13:33:00.001-05:00

Several months ago, Mr. Thomas Flowers, SJ, sent me a copy of his latest book entitled God's Invitation: Meditations on a Covenant Relationship. As we prepare to embark on the 2012 year, and as we prepare to make our annual resolutions to pray more, or to pray at all, allow me to suggest this text to you.

The text is structured around five of the "great covenants" God made with Israel throughout the Old Testament. Each of the five chapters is broken up into a mixture of poetry, scripture, and meditations wrought from personal experience and the scriptures. They are accessible, short, and provide an easy entry point into to praying with the Old Testament with the companionship of a fellow traveler.

Truth to tell, many of the experiences fall within the ambit of a Jesuit in formation. If you're reading my blog, this should not be a foreign experience: I am a Jesuit (is 32 young?) in formation and I share my experiences here, although without the poetic artistry demonstrated by Flowers. So know, going in, that the experiences definitely do find their well-spring in a particular nexus of experiences. Nevertheless, I find it refreshing to read, and pray with, a person whose experiences are similar to my own, whose spiritual journey has asked much of him, and whose weaving of scripture and poetry and prayer result in a rich tableau.

This is the sort of book one could commit to as the "in the top desk drawer" book that is used each day at lunchtime. You could read it on the train, in an off period, or sometime before bed. Flowers writes in lucid prose and his poetry is often touching. I commend this book to those interested in jump-starting their prayer lives this new year and hope others will come to know the God of covenantal love and fidelity.

The Strangeness of the Christ

2011-12-25T03:41:00.000-05:00

It is 2:45 am on Christmas morning and I find myself wide awake. Had I not gone to Confession yesterday, I might attribute this inability to sleep to a guilty conscience. I fell asleep around 10:45 and awoke around 2:00 am with something of a startled sensation. I awoke struck by the strangeness of Christ.

Think of some words we use to express our everyday sense of the strange: odd, weird, abnormal, queer, goofy, bizarre, aberrant, atypical, exceptional, peculiar, offbeat. These are not words normally used to describe Christ. Of course, there are things about Jesus that strike us as odd: it is not every day that we read of persons turning water into wine, raising the dead, consorting with prostitutes and tax collectors, or claiming to be the Son of the Author of Creation. Yet, for many of us Christians, we take all of this for granted and fail to let the absolute oddness of Christ seep into our bones. We domesticate Jesus, we subdue his holy wildness, and we make him tame.

What do I mean by making him tame? It means that we make Jesus our insurance policy, our "Get out of jail" card. We speak of Jesus' love for us, but we confine it to the ways in which this love makes us feel good about ourselves. Jesus' love makes us feel secure, sort of like how a small child peaks over and over again on Christmas night until she knows the presents have been placed under the tree: until the security of knowing the gifts are there, it is very difficult to rest. Security of the gifts, in this sense, makes possible a good night's sleep.

My belief about Jesus, put into its simplest form, is that he is God's Love made flesh, Love that is vulnerable, the Love whose effervescent presence emboldens women and men to risk being the persons they are called to be. I believe that Jesus Christ is the act of God's creation made present in human history. I believe that Jesus is the fruit of Mary's "Yes" to God's friendship, that Jesus is the result of humanity's "Yes" to God's "Yes" to humanity. I believe Jesus is simultaneously the Word and Deed of God written into human history. I believe that the sin of humanity reacted - and continues to react - violently to the presence of this Love in our midst and that we killed him. I believe, finally, that the Resurrection shows us the depths of God's love for us, shows us that God's way is one of restoration and life rather than vengeance and death. I believe that we are, as Christians, called to follow the path of the Risen Christ.

The way of the Crucified and Risen one is indeed bizarre. If Hollywood were to written the Gospel, I suspect that it would involve Jesus kicking down a door and slaying his enemies, rather than appearing amidst them bearing the message "Peace." The way of the Crucified One is so strange in a culture where the message is so often interpreted as Kill or Be Killed, Success at any Price, There's no Room for Second. The Way of the Crucified One is the way of the Loser who shows us that, in the economy of the Kingdom, it is not what one gains for himself but what one pours out for others that is a mark of true wealth.

I do not want to be a tame Christian, a domesticated disciple. I want the strangeness of Christ to continue to wrest me from my slumber, to make me feel convicted for failing to have done enough to help build the Kingdom on this earth. This night, my eyes turn East and I await the dawn of Christmas morning, the dawn of the Son's coming into this world. Lord, give me the grace to bear witness to this dawn each day, with each knock on the door, with each encounter in my life, and let me welcome you in each person I meet. Grant that I see those who approach me as a potential sister or brother rather than a suspicious "other." Give me eyes strong enough to see you in the face of stranger so that, at the end of my life, my own face will be one that is not strange to you. Let me never lose the wonder that is born of your strangeness, your downright oddness, and please let me be counted as one of your Company.

The Scar of Hope

2011-12-24T12:24:00.001-05:00

As Christians we should never limit ourselves to asking: how can I save myself? We should also ask: what can I do in order that others may be saved and that for them too the star of hope may rise? Then I will have done my utmost for my own personal salvation as well.

(Pope Benedict XVI, Spe Salvi, #48)

I went this morning to Cleveland's Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist to participate in the Sacrament of Confession. I went with Adam, another Jesuit, after we had eaten breakfast, stopped at the West Side Market for coffee, and then taken a walk. The cathedral, although dimly lit, was quite active with final preparations being made for the liturgies that will be held this evening and tomorrow.

As I waited in a surprisingly long line to take my turn in the confessional, I meditated on the power of the Incarnation, the Christian belief that the Word - the Word through whom all things came into being - assumed human flesh. The Incarnation is the belief that the Almighty Creator of all that is, was, and ever shall be actually cares enough about humans that He would cast His lot amongst us.

This is, indeed, hard to believe. Crushing cynicism and apathy seem wage against such a belief, against such hope. Yet this is Christian hope: that God loves us and is willing to enter our lives, to enter our human story, in order to show us how to allow God's story of creation to become our story. This is a story I believe and it is where I have placed my faith. This is the story I wish to share with a world where so many doubt whether anyone truly likes them, let alone loves them in a deep and abiding way.

In a special way, we are called upon to remember that God's love for humanity always flows outward, always expands toward others. God's love isn't something I deserve or merit and it is surely not something that I can horde. Quite to the contrary. As I come to dwell in the story of God's love for me, I have no choice but to share it with others. Having been touched and scarred by God's love, I can do nothing else but share that with others.

When we are etched with God's love, it leaves a trace on us that defines us as who we are. God's love leaves a wound, a sign of our vulnerability. In talking about the traces left on our bodies, I cannot help but think of the following scene from the movie Jaws:

Note how the scars lead deeper and deeper into the story that is most defining of Sam Quint. He doesn't just share his story outright; no, he moves toward it, obliquely, following the contours of his flesh. We move from outside toward the inside, from the surface to the depths, and in so doing we learn this man's story.

Where has hope left a scar in our hearts and on our bodies? Can we take a few moments and ask where we find the mark where we have experienced God's grace, a grace that leaves its mark upon us? Do we dare to share these marks with the world, showing and telling about our encounters with the Holy One whose Risen Body bears the scars of his earthly life?

Please know that you will be in my prayers this Christmas season. It is hard to believe that this is my last Christmas as a regent and that, God willing, I'll soon move on to theology studies. It has been an honor and a joy to share another year of this Jesuit's Journey with you and I look forward to sharing future exploits in the years to come.

May the Hope of Christmas leave an abiding mark on your heart!

May We Ever Forget?

2011-12-23T11:02:00.001-05:00

There are certain lessons in life that I hope never to forget. Stove tops are very hot. The word "safety razor" does not mean that you can't slice open your finger if you run it across the blades to test how safe it is. The words "Tear Free" on the bottle of baby shampoo does not mean that you can apply a drop of the liquid directly to your eye without some pain.

Human society has lessons we must never forget. We must not forget the terrible toll hatred and intolerance can take upon our sisters and brothers. We must not forget how easy it is to turn a people into a number and then systematically slaughter them. We must not forget that human dignity extends to all people - regardless of race, sex, color, creed, orientation, and economic status - and that all persons must be treated with respect.

Yet, are there things that we ought to forget or, at the least, be allowed to forget?

That time you had too much to drink and told those gathered what you felt about so-and-so.
That time you made a fool of yourself at Karaoke.
That time you sent a text that you failed to read carefully...realizing, only too late, that sometimes Auto-correct does the strangest things...
That time you had a spectacular wipe-out as you attempted to slide into home plate.
That time you professed your eternal and undying love to someone, only to be totally rejected.
That time you ___________________(insert here)

Last night, I heard someone in a restaurant say, "Be careful! That might end up on Facebook." This got me to thinking: there really is no such thing as social amnesia any longer. Anything we do can be frozen and put on Facebook; anything we perform can be videotaped and put on YouTube. The mundane moments of our lives can easily be enshrined forever on servers and networks, downloaded by whoever, whenever, and for whatever reason.

As Facebook rolls out the new Timeline feature, it strikes me that there is no longer any "social forgetting," no chance for the past to be the past, for bygones to be bygones, for things to stay buried. We now have a collective, computerized conscience who stores all, recalls all, and remembers all...even when, or especially when, we'd like for it to be forgotten.

New technology will continue to call for greater reflection and discernment. In a world where people can use a phone to dial grandma or take a video, we need to begin a frank discussion on how these technologies are to be incorporated in a healthy way into our lives. I am all for the use of technology, but I'm afraid that if we continue to embrace new technological advances without due discernment, we risk walking into our future carrying not only the lessons we have learned from experience, but also the servers on which those lessons are stored.

Refinement of Taste

2011-12-20T09:15:00.001-05:00

"What happens to the guest who visits the house of a great musician," asks Hafiz of Shiraz, a fourteenth-century poet who wrote in Persia. "Of course, his tastes become refined."

I stumbled upon the above quote in Richard Kearney's excellent work Anatheism. The author's intent is to assess the situation we find ourselves in as a community of believers, believers who cannot help but to take notice of the wreckage and debris left in the wake of violence and atrocities done in the name of 'god'. The once-glittering idols that condoned cultures of silence (sex abuse) or cultures of violence (crusades, Inquisition) have been shattered - both by the likes of Dawkins and Hitchens but also by an acute sense of history.

Kearney's project is to probe the wreckage to see whether the space made in the destruction of idols, in the rubble left by the 'death of god', is actually the space through which we may encounter the "God after god." Once the appearance of the Holy Other is dictated not on our own terms but on the terms of the Divine, once our self-confidence and self-assuredness are lanced by the irruption of the Holy One into our lives, once we have marked ourselves as hospitable to the one who approaches us as a Stranger, then, perhaps, will we come to know the God who arises arises from the graveyard of the gods.

In these waning days of Advent, I am struck with the temptation to sign up for a course in wine-tasting. I enjoy drinking wine very much and I think that I would enjoy learning more about the varying varieties and vintages. It'd be nice, on my accounting, to find a way to apprentice myself to someone who could show me the ropes, who would show me how to refine my tastes and discern better what makes a wine good and what makes it great.

Isn't this the point of Advent? Not that we, of course, learn to distinguish wines but, rather, that we learn how to discern? So many of us feel the desire for more, feel that even after the hours spent shopping and wrapping and cleaning and baking...there is still something left. We can decorate trees, cook the ham, and put out our finest crystal goblets, but if the guest we wish most to honor is not present, there is something incomplete. If people very often report something of a let-down on Christmas, I reckon it's because they failed to recognize the one they had truly been waiting for, the One who is, to be a bit cliche, the "reason for the season."

It is my prayer, at least this year, that each of us has an experience of the Christ who comes after Christmas. In the sea of torn wrapping paper and half-eaten cookies and spilled red wine, I hope there is a moment when the heart's door feels a quiet knocking, an unexpected yet not unwanted interruption. The One you have been waiting for, the One who is so easily forgotten in the rush to Buy-Buy-Buy is there, and has been there, for a long time. Advent is not a season where He gets ready to visit you, as though He had to pack up the car and set out on a journey. Advent is for you, a time to prepare yourself, a time to exhaust yourself on the ten-thousand details that we are so good at obsessing over, while missing the one detail that is worth focusing on with our whole selves.

Christmas is not about getting it right. It's about getting it open. It's about risking to open our hearts and our lives to the knocking that rouses us from our sleep, to the cry that summons us to get out of our bed and investigate its source. Christmas is about taking a risk to be called away from our security and to enter into the adventure of discipleship. Christmas is about being apprenticed, year after year, in the school of hope...a school where the lesson bears us inevitably to the terror and glory of the Cross. May this season be the one where we invite the Stranger into our midst, where we welcome the Alien into our families. The gift this strangest of Strangers bears is not a good bottle of tequila or new hand towels. He brings us hope, a gift and a grace so desperately needed these days. Let us have the courage to accept this gift and all that comes with it: Know Hope, Know Risk.

Hope in the Face of Death?

2011-12-19T15:30:00.000-05:00

Earlier, I coined the word Ennuim to describe the spiritual dimension of the Control-F Generation. Basically, it has been my observation that there is a pervasive weariness and cynicism within this generation of students that I find surprising. There seems to be a general lack of wonder and awe, accompanied by an apathy toward the future. So conditioned is this generation that they seek the security of the 'right' answer rather than risk failure with a novel or innovative approach to a question. They are, as a general rule, extraordinarily risk-averse: if they are not assured of success, then it is better not even to bother lest one fail.

Perhaps this might be illustrated cinematically. Below is a short clip from The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. I apologize for the commercial at the beginning, but please suffer through it to get to the clip.

Let me offer some brief commentary to set the stage for the unfamiliar. Theoden, King of Rohan, has sought refuge in the mountain fortress of the Hornburg at Helm's Deep. 10,000 of the evil wizard Saruman's forces lay siege to the fortress and quickly the defenses fail. As you will see in the clip, the human forces have retreated into the heart of the fortress and the foe is, quite literally, battering down the door.

The humans face odds stacked infinitely against them. Allow me to propose that the two main figures here - the King of Rohan and Aragorn - are separated not by skill with a weapon or even courage but, simply, by the presence of Hope. It is the hope Aragorn has in the promise made by Gandalf that inflames his courage; it is Hope that pierces the veil of darkness and serves to enkindle the hearts of those around him. It is his knowledge of Hope that enables him to take the risk you will see momentarily, the risk to face the enemy despite the near-certainty of annihilation.

It is undoubted that teaching in an all-boy environment influences my choice in film clips, but I hope you can see something of the distinction between the Ennuim and the Anawim.

The Ennuim, captured so well by the King of Rohan, proclaims that "it is over." Despite the efforts of those around him, he is without hope. Death and devastation, coupled with reckless hate, clouds his vision. Hope would seem a fool's fancy rather than the spark that could shift the tide of a battle. The King of Rohan is world-weary, overwhelmed by numbers and odds, statistics and human calculation. Why not simply accept fate rather than fighting against the "inevitable"?

The Anawim finds personification in Aragorn. "Ride out with me...ride out and meet them." With the rising of the sun, with the dark night's ceding to morning's light, Hope has not yet been vanquished in his heart. An old wizard's promise still echoes in his heart, yet the shape this promise will take is as yet unseen. Success seems impossible, defeat appears inevitable. Nevertheless, Hope penetrates and prompts action. Instead of accepting death, Aragorn is roused to rally those around him and meet the enemy head-on. He has no appreciable army, no power in numbers, no magic sword. He has only Hope and the courage to Risk.

My friends, the Ennuim are not a lost cause. Far from it! They need to be roused from the darkness, taken out from behind computer screens and drawn into action. Parents and teachers need to encourage them to take risks, to have courage, and to experience the thrill that is Hope.

Now, more than ever, is the Christian message salient. It is the belief of the Christian that our lives are meaningful, that it is not a meaning we have put onto this but, rather, a meaning that has been placed their by the Author of Creation. The Hope that is aroused by the Good News does not force us into self-constructed fortresses. Quite to the contrary, it sounds in the deep and gives us the strength to throw ourselves into the fray.

The Ennuim: No Hope, No Risk

2011-12-19T13:05:00.002-05:00

Over the last several months, I have offered occasional reflections on what I coined as the "Control-F Generation." Today, I should like to reflect on what I see as the spirituality of the Control-F Generation.

Let me begin with the positive contrast. In the Hebrew Scriptures, we encounter the Anawim. The Anawim are the poor, the destitute; they are those who have neither land nor power nor riches by which to establish their place in the world. The paradox of the Anawim is that, throughout the Scriptures, God uses them to demonstrate His saving power. Time and time again, God chooses the unlikeliest women and men and uses them to show forth the power and wonder of the Creator. Rather than give them magical powers to overcome their obstacles, He does something even more profound: he gives them Hope. The Anawim are willing to risk their lives and their futures on the promise of hope, on the trust that they put in the living God who has summoned them to be His people.

You could say that the slogan for the Biblical Anawim is, simply, "Know Hope, Know Risk." The gift of Hope pierces the darkness and spurs people on toward itself. Hope shakes at its foundations the self-enclosures we erect for ourselves, rattling us to move forward on our human pilgrimages. As Pope Benedict XVI writes in Spe Salvi

Here too we see as a distinguishing mark of Christians the fact that they have a future: it is not that they know the details of what awaits them, but they know in general terms that their life will not end in emptiness. (2)

The Anawim may not have the structural securities that so many of us take for granted - riches, honors, positions, etc. - but they have something much more powerful, the "great hope: 'I am definitively loved and whatever happens to me - I am awaited by this Love. And so my life is good." (4) Because of this confidence in the power of Love, the Hope of the Anawim enables them to take great risks. They know risk because they know hope.

Compare this to the traits we see amidst the Control-F Generation. I should like, consequently, to dub the spiritual state of the Control-F Generation as the Ennuim. Taken from the word ennui "world weary," I believe the defining mark of the Ennuim to be encapsulated in the slogan "No Hope, No Risk."

What strikes me about many of the students I teach is that they have no hope. They look out at the world and see it as a bleak landscape. They experience themselves as being reduced to mere numbers - their GPA, their SAT/ACT scores, their class rank, the number of AP and Honors courses they take - and they feel constant pressure to test well, to score well, to look good...in order to what? They feel pressure to go to a good college so they can get a good job so they can have nice stuff and send their kids to a good school so they can go to a good college and.....and what? Well, repeat the cycle.

If my description of the Control-F Generation is remotely apt, consider how they live their lives. They are totally wired to the internet, in constant communication with the world around them, and they expect to get answers immediately. Everything they could want to know is just a few clicks away. No longer must they work patiently at a problem or search diligently for an answer: they just have to Google it. No longer must they reflect on the meaning of a poem: countless web sites will give the 'correct' interpretation of the text's meaning. No longer must they risk hazarding a novel interpretation or innovative approach, lest they be marked 'wrong' or lose points. They can live within the safety and security of convention.

I shall shortly post another gloss on this topic (probably within the next hour) but I wanted to float this out onto the web to see if it gains any traction. It's a first stab, a beating about in the thicket, to see if we can't come to a better understanding of those to whom we minister and those in whom we must place our hope for the future. I don't know that I've added anything of substance to the conversation but, if Ennuim helps to acknowledge the spiritual dimension of this generation, then perhaps another small step has been made toward gaining greater understanding.

Walls Within the Web?

2011-12-09T06:59:00.001-05:00

Several months ago, I coined a phrase to describe the generation of students I have been working with these past few years. I dubbed them the "Control-F Generation." The traits I associate with this generation could be described in several bullet points:

These are students who are highly literate in technology. While we are deciphering acronyms (App = application), they are coding new programs and editing elaborate videos that will be posted to YouTube.
These are students who have come through an educational system where a premium is placed on test scores. "Test Scores" refers not only to in-class performance, but also to grades earned on standardized tests. From my own observation, it is stunning to consider how much a student's sense of worth is tied into his or her ACT or SAT score. A motto might be, "I am what I scored."
These are students who spend an inordinate amount of time behind a computer screen. Whether it is texting or being on Facebook or playing games or surfing the web, they spend a tremendous amount of time behind the computer.
This is a generation fixated on getting the 'right' answer and fears terribly being wrong. They are generally risk-averse because they associate getting something 'wrong' with failing, rather than as a necessary part of the learning process.
They are text-averse in that they are not keen on sitting down with a text. This is a generation that can buy bootleg copies of the latest movies, stream video and music content into their room without having to go to a store to buy it, and they can find resources to make reading a book an unnecessary task: why read it when you can download an outline?

There are other traits, too, but these give a sense of one person's observation of these students. I use "Control-F Generation" as using the "Ctrl-F" function on a computer keyboard is the way one searches for a particular word or phrase. Rather than read the document, one need only "Ctrl-F + _______" to go exactly to the answer one is looking for.

This is a generation which contents itself in having right answers rather than struggling with good questions.

The Dean of Students forwarded on to me a talk by Eli Pariser at the 2011 TED Conference. I attach the video below, because I think it is fascinating:

What follows won't make any sense if you don't skim through the video.

Within the educational atmosphere, there seems to be a rush to saturate our students with technology (iPads and laptops) because "it's the way the world is." As a Jesuit, I cannot help but think this zealousness is misguided: folly are we if we throw our students into the digital morass without first teaching them how to discern. Google and Facebook are engaged in constant "discernment" for us, picking and choosing what it is that we will see. Shame on us if we do not resist this.

It would be nice to consider the World Wide Web to be an open source of free-range ideas. We are learning, though, that even the forum for our searches is influencing what we see. Rather than confronting challenging points counter to our own, we are more likely to be directed to places where we are affirmed.

The vastness of the World Wide Web is being called into question and, on the unblemished horizons, there appear more walls than one might have expected. Perhaps it is the case that the Control-F Generation, so tethered to instant access to information, is not so disimilar to each of us who dare to make frequent use of the internet: we all risk being enclosed in a Digital Citadel of another's design, one based on our own preferences, but one that isolates us from the totality of possible viewpoints.

Advent of the Heart

2011-12-04T17:41:00.001-05:00

Advent is a time of being deeply shaken, so that man will wake up to himself. The prerequisite for a fulfilled Advent is a renunciation of the arrogant gestures and tempting dreams with which, and in which, man is always deceiving himself. Thus he compels reality to use violence to bring him around, violence and much distress and suffering.

These words of Father Alfred Delp, SJ, were written from behind the walls of Tegel Prison in Berlin in the waning days of Father Delp's life. Delp, accused of conspiring against the Nazi government, would be executed only a few weeks after these words were written.

Advent, for me, has become something akin to the weekly weigh-in I had to go through when I was in Weight-Watchers. There is no fooling the scale: you either were disciplined during the week or you were not, and the scale didn't care one bit about any good intentions or bad days. The scale loomed large in my life throughout that year and it helped me to admit (1) that I needed to re-learn how to eat in a healthy way and (2) that I needed help to get down to a healthy weight.

Each Advent, I am reminded (1) I always need to re-learn how to be disciplined in prayer and (2) that I need the support of others in becoming the disciple I most want to become. Just as I used to plan my daily meals in the shadow of the scale, should I not feel an even greater pressure to chart my life according to the impending birth of the Christ Child? Just as I once oriented my life to the demand of the weigh-in scale, how much more ought I to turn my eyes to the Cross as that which guides me?

Wants into Needs

2011-11-29T06:44:00.001-05:00

Some weeks ago, I had a conversation with an old friend with whom I went to school. After catching up on the years intervening between our last encounter, he asked me if he could ask a theological question. Happy to oblige, he continued, "I get the whole God thing. But seriously: do you really think that God can turn a piece of flat bread into Jesus?"

My response was intentionally curt: "We live in a society where the want for comfort has been transformed into the need for a Snuggie."

When you think about it, his question finds its mirror-image in the state of marketing today. Is not the whole goal of a proper marketing campaign to convince you that some of your wants - certain foods, reliable transportation, a style of dress - are actually needs that can only be met by purchasing a product?

Isn't it funny how quickly so many of us think nothing of shelling out $5.00 for a Venti No-Whip Soy Latte with a Double Shot or paying exorbitant amounts of money for a pair of jeans, but inveigh against "the Church" for taking up a weekly collection? I know many schools that subsidize the cost of Catholic education...I don't know that Abercrombie & Fitch have quite the same goal in mind when you are handing over your credit card to by a new pair of distressed jeans.

The irony of the Eucharist is that it transforms our needs into our wants. Saint Augustine said it so well when he wrote, "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you." The only thing that will satisfy our restless longings is God; what we need, above all else is God. The event of Eucharist transforms this fundamental need into a want, a desire to join with others in Communion, gathered at the altar, where we join together as a desiring community.

I think the liturgy, viewed from one angle, is nothing more than a tutorial lesson in coming to know exactly how it is that our greatest need ought also to be our greatest want. The rituals build up to a climax where God Himself offers Living Bread to those gathered in memory of His Son. What we receive in the hand or on the tongue is, quite literally, a foretaste of the great banquet each of us has been invited to join.

Simple bread and bread. The basic staples of human life transformed to meet the fundamental desire of human longing. The difference between the Snuggie or the jeans and the Eucharist? Let's see if the Snuggie has 2,000 years of staying power of meeting the basic need and desire of the human condition.

The First Sunday of Advent

2011-11-28T10:06:00.001-05:00

You, LORD, are our father,

our redeemer you are named forever.

Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways,

and harden our hearts so that we fear you not.

The first reading from yesterday, taken from Isaiah, is quoted above. Entering into the great season of Advent, many of us were encouraged yesterday to examine our lives and to look for those places we were in need of our savior, for those places where we are weak and struggling - those places where we can sense how remote we have become from God - and to call out to the Lord that we might be reunited.

Advent's theme is to wait and to watch and to come to want the coming of the Messiah. The Church's prayer can be summoned up in a single word, Maranatha, or "Come, Lord Jesus." How many of us can look back on this past year and cry out:

Come, Lord Jesus, in the muck and mire of my life. I am lost and have no idea of where I am to turn. I sense that you are calling out to me, but I cannot raise my head from the earth in order to see you...please, give your hand to me.
Come, Lord Jesus, I am a part of a Church too-frequently given over to acts of galling hypocrisy. Restore the hearts and minds of its members and reinvigorate its body that it might live out boldly the Gospel in a world that thirsts for the Good News.
Come, Lord Jesus, and soften the hearts hardened by cynicism and indifference. Rather than viewing creation as a cold and meaningless void, inspire us with a sense of wonder and awe that you are the innermost reality of all.
Come, Lord, Jesus, for in the wake of suffering and loss, I wonder if I even believe any longer. I realize now that the 'god' of my illusion-free life has failed and I stand now, alone, amidst the debris of the temple that I constructed in its likeness...in my likeness. Raise these stones and create a new Temple according to your plan...for then I shall have a home worthy of worshipping within.

Each of our hearts cries out each day and it is part of the discipline of prayer to come to know just what it is that moves within our hearts. In a special way, however, the Church across the world unites its voice during Advent to cry out, "Come, Lord Jesus!" as we invite Jesus into our reality.

The challenge of this should not be underestimated. Do we have the courage to pray this with our whole heart, for what would happen if our prayer were answered? Would we be willing to respond generously, wholly, and freely to the call of discipleship? Our prayer is "Come, Lord Jesus," and not, "Come on my terms and according to my plans, Lord Jesus."

Perhaps each of us might take a few moments in the next few days to think back on our lives. Where, upon reflection, do you need the Mercy of God to enter into your chaos? Where do you need the Savior to break into the confines of your life and offer you liberation? Where do you feel a darkness in need of light? Where, in the deepest depths of your being, does the prayer, "Come, Lord Jesus" well up and strain to be cried out to the heavens...if only you will give voice to it?

And With Your Spirit

2011-11-26T07:33:00.001-05:00

This evening, Father Kiser will celebrate the Eucharist with those interested here at the Mid-American Oireachtas (big Irish dancing competition). After a day of dancing and music, we will gather as an Irish dancing community to celebrate our faith. I'm particularly interested to see how Mass will play out this evening as today marks the full implementation of the Third English Translation of the Roman Missal.

Briefly, I think that those with the loudest voices - those who think this new translation is going to fix problems and those who think that it will cause problems - are going to be disappointed. It seems to me that what has been forgotten is that our language, human language, always falls short of fully expressing its target. When I say, "I love my niece and nephew," it is maddeningly difficult to get across to you the nuance of the word love. How much more difficult, Saint Thomas Aquinas realized (as others before and after), is it to use words of God. No translation of the liturgy is going to be perfect, nor is anything we say ever going to be adequate of its subject.

Ultimately, I hope all Catholics enter into this with a spirit of generosity. Perhaps the new translation, even where it is difficult, will grab our attention in new ways and give us something to think about: rather than rambling off prayers in a rote manner, this just might give us pause to re-acquaint ourselves with the prayers that have united the Catholic faith for centuries.

Pro-Family?

2011-11-23T10:11:00.001-05:00

It was nice to wake up later than usual this morning - 8:30 rather than 5:30 - thanks to our day off of school. There is nothing, to my mind, like a lazy day off of school. I enjoyed two leisurely cups of coffee, made a delicious omelet for breakfast, and I'm catching up on reading several periodicals that have been piling up on my desk.

Last night, without the pressure to grade or prepare anything for class, I managed to catch a bit last night's GOP Debate. Like many, I was surprised by Newt Gingrich's comments on immigration:

"I do not believe that the people of the United States are going to take people who have been here a quarter of a century, separate them from their families and expel them,” Gingrich said last night. “I do believe that if you’ve been here recently and have no ties to the US, we should deport you."

Much is often made of Gingrich's conversion to Catholicism. Perhaps it is just serendipitous, but what some regard as devastating "political TNT" resonates so clearly with last Sunday's Gospel.

...For I was hungry and you gave me food,I was thirsty and you gave me drink,a stranger and you welcomed me,naked and you clothed me,ill and you cared for me,in prison and you visited me.'Then the righteous will answer him and say,'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you,or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you,or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?'And the king will say to them in reply,'Amen, I say to you, whatever you didfor one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.'Then he will say to those on his left,'Depart from me, you accursed,into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.For I was hungry and you gave me no food,I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,a stranger and you gave me no welcome,naked and you gave me no clothing,ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.'

To be transparent, I am a registered Republican (read into that what you will). I think Newt is dead-on in pointing out the contradiction of claiming to be "the party of the family" while pursuing a course of action that would tear families apart.

It astonishes me that so many hear in Newt's words the death knell to his candidacy. In advocating a more human, more realistic, more Christian response...has he really severed his ties with his party? Has our country become so polarized that reason and humanity will be jettisoned for fringe-group extremism?

Perhaps it is I who have caved to extremism. Yet recall what Archbishop Allen Vigneron wrote several months ago:

There must be a concerted effort to find a pathway toward citizenship for undocumented persons who have contributed to the common good. The positive impact migrant communities have made in our country, and especially in our state, should be recognized rather than overshadowed by the small number of those who engage in illicit and unacceptable activities.

Today, I must give credit to Mr. Gingrich for, on this point, standing within the orbit of Catholic Social Teaching. It's funny that "Cafeteria Conservatives" love to dip into the Church's teachings when it comes to abortion or to "pro-family" legislation regarding gay marriage, but it leaves the teachings on Immigration untouched. If Newt's candidacy is sunk by this stance, I will have to agree with Michael Shawn Winters that, "we will have learned all we need to know about the shallowness of the claims of the GOP to be the "pro-family" party."

El Salvador: 20 Years On

2011-11-17T06:58:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, Jesuits around the world remembered the 1989 deaths of six of their brothers and two companions at the Universidad Centroamericana (UCA) in El Salvador. You can find a series of beautiful reflections on the event and its aftermath by following this link to Creighton University. A short video, created last year, gives the broadest of overviews of the events of that day:

Ever the provocateur, I posed this question: "In our country, we demand that justice reach to the heavens when people fail to report sexual abuse (Catholic Church, Penn State), and we assign life sentences to those who would defraud us of money (Bernie Madoff)...yet why is it that those in charge can order the murder of six priests, a housekeeper, and her daughter and remain unpunished?" This question, framed on a day when we recall in a special way the Jesuits executed for responding to the Gospel, is easily broadened to ask why we do not cry out and demand justice for all those innocent lives lost during this conflict.

Yesterday, I taught my sophomores about Jesus' "mission statement" in Luke's Gospel:

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free and to proclaim a year of the Lord." (Luke 4: 18-19)

True today as it was 2,000 years ago, if you proclaim this message you must face the consequences of speaking the Truth: death.

Death is not the cause of martyrdom. It is the consequence. These Jesuits and countless others lived out their love of Jesus Christ by bringing His Good News to an oppressed and languishing people, bringing sight to the blind, and proclaiming the inbreaking of God's liberating reign. For this, they were rewarded with bullets in their brains.

O God, give me the courage and strength
to be worthy of being called a Christian.
~ Karl Rahner, SJ

Martyrs of El Salvador - known and unknown - Pray for Us.

An Examen for the Close of the 2011 Liturgical Year

2011-11-11T00:00:00.000-05:00

we prepare to close the 2011 Liturgical Year and embark on the journey of Advent (11/27), it may help us to engage in something of an Examination of Conscience (or Consciousness). The Examen, enjoined upon his companions by Saint Ignatius of Loyola, is the single most important prayer of a Jesuit's life. In the still of the evening (or mid-day), the Jesuit places himself before God and looks attentively and reverently at his life in order to see (1) where God is working, (2) where one has failed to respond to God, (3) where one has cooperated with God's creative activity, and (4) to ask for the grace to enter more generously into God's creative action.

The Examen reminds us that things in our past are closer
to us than we might think.

Just as we embark upon every new year with a host of resolutions, perhaps we should begin the new liturgical year with our own sense of where God is leading us. We need not search tea leaves or the entrails of slaughtered animals; we need only pause and look inward to put ourself in God's presence. God's will is not some free-floating thing outside of me. Instead, it is the deepest core of my being, the deepest and most animating aspect of my personhood. To cooperate with God's will, I need not become a different person. I need only to be my true self, the self that God is inviting me to become, and I can do this by finding where God is calling out to me from the depths of my self.

We are entering a period where many generous men and women throughout the Church are discerning vocations for entrance into Seminaries and Religious Life for the 2012-2013 year. We are also embarking on the adventure of implementing the New Translation of the Mass. Perhaps an examination of consciousness will help to dispose our hearts and minds toward the generosity God asks of us that we all may become greater instruments of the Divine Will.

An Examen of 2011 with an Eye to 2012

God, I believe at this moment I am in your presence and you are loving me.

Lord, it is hard to believe that you are here. In the commotion of my life, in the welter of questions and doubts, anxiety and fear, it is hard to trust that you are actually with me, within me, loving me. I know only too well how often I have doubted you, fled from you, even outright denied you by my words or, more chillingly, my deeds. Remind my weary heart that you are here and give me the grace to relax into your presence. It's hard for me to accept your love because I know how unlovable I can be. Let this knowledge be the grace to know that I do not deserve your love but that you love me all the same: you have created me and you love me and you are calling me to your self.

God, you know my needs better than I know them. Give me your light
and help as I review my life.

Creative God, there is no thing that I have done, or thought, or wished that you are not aware of. You have seen past my pretenses; you know when I have acted motivated by You and You alone, just as you know when I have acted for my own petty motives. How often have you heard my small-minded prayers, how often have you endured my prattling about my illusion-free philosophy of life? Give me the grace to fall silent, to take a breath, and to listen to you. Deep in my heart, you are churning; deep within me, you are carving out new spaces that I cannot even begin to imagine. Give me the grace to allow myself to explore these areas that you have created for me, that you are creating for me, and to accept them as made by You. You know, surely better than I do, what I truly desire: for all of my wants pale in comparison to Who you are and What you offer to me...Yourself.

Help me now to review the events of this year in order to recognize your blessings and my shortcomings.

I think back and see how well-intentioned I was when the year began. I had such hopes, such aspirations. I see now, Lord, where you were attempting to ignite my passions or enflame my heart. How easily am I distracted! I set out to pray daily, but I succumbed to the temptation to be relevant to others, so I sacrificed those minutes I had set aside for you, rationalizing that "God would want me to work in this time." Those days when I had resolved to be with the community at the Eucharist but decided to sleep in...did I not rationalize it by saying, "God would want me to rest." How frequently did I justify myself - to myself? to you? - when I took short-cuts or was dishonest? How frequently did I view your grace as something owed to me, as something I had earned, rather than something you had given to me?

As I look upon your invitation into friendship, how have I responded to this call? Have I pushed it out of my mind, saying, "I'm too young" or "Maybe next year" or "The Church is not quite to my liking" or "I am not strong enough." Have I really given my heart back to you - for it is you who gave it to me to start with - or have I tried, selfishly, to hold on to a bit myself?

Have I been honest with my spouse? Have I allowed the one to whom I have pledge my life to know me or have I kept things hidden?

Lord, sometimes you fill me with courage and honesty but how fragile that flame seems to be. For I feel engulfed in your power at times but then, at others, it as though it vanishes completely...extinguished by a toxic atmosphere of doubt and cynicism. How often have I contributed to that extinguishing? How often have you re-lighted my heart only to see it go out again...and then you re-light it...again...and again...and again? When will I learn that it is only when I am heated and warmed by your love that I will be who I really am called to be?

God, I ask your forgiveness for my failings and I thank you for all of your blessings.

It is easy to think that all that I have, I have earned; all that I am, I have created. I am sorry, Lord, for those times when I have pushed you from my mind in order to take all credit...and those times I have cursed you, or doubted you, or grown angry with you when things did not turn out according to my plan. If only I could have the perspective of seeing, at all times, how your creative plan is involving me and inviting me to new life.

I am sorry, Merciful Father, for those times that I have failed you. My failings surely do not hurt you, but they do cripple me: when I am dishonest, or petty, or cruel, or fearful I am not living up to the person you have created me to be. When I fearfully cling to some bit of my heart, reserving it for my own pleasures, I enclose myself in a little shack and refuse to enter the Kingdom you are offering to me.

Thank you for not rescinding the offer; thank you for inviting me, even now, to your friendship. Perhaps it is not "too good to be true" that you are madly in love with me. Perhaps I can step out of my shack and into your Kingdom. I think, in the stillness of my heart, that I can feel your hand reaching out to me, even though I cannot see it. As I ask for forgiveness, help me to realize the power to say "I'm Sorry" is your power of love, calling out to Love itself. To say, "I am sorry" is to have allowed myself to be awash in your grace, for I could not apologize to you if I did not recognize you, and I could not recognize you if I did not reveal yourself to me. You have revealed yourself as Love itself. Forgive me for failing love, and bless me.

As I look forward to the future make me aware that you are with me. Show me how to become the person you want me to be.

The journey ahead seems so long, so daunting! I am only too painfully aware of how many times I have started off with the best of intentions and then failed. Yet, Lord, I ask once again for your love and your grace. Show me the way, Your Way, and draw close to me. I am a fearful soul, easily distracted and too often swayed from the course.

Yet I have felt you in this prayer. The stirring in my heart that drew me to settle down with you, the peaceful serenity that has descended upon my heart and mind, the flickering of love that only grows the longer I am with you. I have felt you calling out to me, inviting me, cajoling me. I have heard you for so long but I was too afraid to cry back. Hear then, now, my cry and let me set foot on the path of friendship you have laid out for me.

Grace me with a discerning heart. In the days and weeks ahead, draw me into further reflection and relationship. Give me the grace to ask the deep questions of life: "Is this the person I want to marry, the person in and through whom I will work to build the Kingdom?" "Am I called to the priesthood or religious life, a life of great sacrifice but also of great joy?" Do not allow me to be a tepid heart, Lord, but rather let me burn for You and You alone.

Let me know that you are with me. I will beg, I will plead and stamp my foot, I will sometimes sit down in a huff. You know that, deep down, I want to follow because I want to be with You above all. Be patient, Lord, and lead me kindly and gently. Help me to see that I do not need to make you the center of my life, for you are its center...whether I know it or not. Instead, help me to realize the truth of who You are, and who I am, and how You are calling upon me. Let us begin this journey anew, together, so that when I rest in you for eternity, when I place myself in your hands with my dying breath, I might hear you say, "Welcome, old friend" and I will find my rest in You eternal.

The gifts you have given, how can I use them? I put them before your altar, Lord, and ask you to show me how to use my hands, my mind, and my heart for your Greater Glory. Am I doing now what you wish or is there something more to which you are calling? My prayer has shown me that my desire outstrips my wants and that it is You I desire most. Show me how you wish for me to fulfill my desire.

Of Papists and Penn State

2011-11-10T10:14:00.003-05:00

I have followed with some interest the unfolding scandal that has engulfed the Penn State University. As is well known, the legendary Joe Paterno has been fired for his involvement (or lack thereof) in the sexual abuse of minors at the hands of Paterno's assistant coach Jerry Sandusky. This morning, the sun rises on a new terrain at Penn State: both Joe Pa and the school's president Graham Spanier have been fired.

What has drawn Paterno into the eye of the storm is that he knew of an allegation of rape made against Sandusky by a graduate student. The student reported to have seen a naked Sandusky in the shower with a ten year-old boy. This was reported to Paterno who passed it along to his superiors; as we know now, the cops were never called.

Maureen Dowd draws a parallel between the situation at Penn State and the crises in which the Catholic Church is embroiled:

Like the Roman Catholic Church, Penn State is an arrogant institution hiding behind its mystique. And sports, as my former fellow sports columnist at The Washington Star, David Israel, says, is “an insular world that protects its own, and operates outside of societal norms as long as victories and cash continue to flow bountifully.” Penn State rakes in $70 million a year from its football program. ~Maureen Dowd

I have to disagree, but only slightly. Doubtless Dowd is right saying that the Church is "an arrogant institution hiding behind its mystique." What I disagree with, however, is David Israel's observation. I think the Penn State, just as the Catholic Church, plays perilously by the rules of society. That, I'm afraid, is the problem.

Look around. On high school and college campuses, teachers have to be hyper-vigilant to stave off increasing instances of plagiarism and academic dishonesty. "If everybody else is cheating, why shouldn't I?" seems to be the reigning wisdom. Last night's Republican debate - a debacle on so many levels - did at least bring out some of the ire we feel when we hear of exorbitant bonuses being paid to executives at Fannie and Freddie when they are asking for billions in aide. Baseball and cycling seem forever involved in doping scandals; the Boy Scouts have been accused of concealing over 5,000 child molesters, politicians are involved in affairs and scandals that are hurriedly covered up.

To my mind, it's not that the Church and Penn State are playing by their own rules, apart from society's. It's that both of them claim to be governed by a different type of wisdom, a different set of rules, and they have failed miserably.

The Catholic Church would claim to live and work together in a new economy, one illuminated by the Lamb of God. Penn State claimed to have found its luminosity in Joe Paterno. What happened, tragically, is that the good values we expected to see were blighted out by the mendacity and corruption that seems to be so much a part of our society. It's funny that, if I'm right, it's not that we can't tolerate corruption and sinfulness...it's hypocrisy we cannot abide. It's fine if you accept being submerged in the muck-and-mire of daily life but, if you try to hold yourself above it, have a care: the moment you fail or capitulate to our norms, we're going to drag you back down.

Speaking on the Church for a moment, the sex abuse scandal can prove to be a moment of profound and transformative grace. It should show where and how often the Church - on its way to establishing the New Jerusalem - has failed in its mission and surrendered to the forces of darkness. While it is painful to undergo this purging, I pray that this the Church will emerge armed with greater courage and honesty and transparency. So, too, is this my prayer for Penn State. I do not think that Joe Paterno is a bad or evil man. Quite to the contrary, I think he is a very good man who allowed the logic of the world to override his good sense in this tragic instance. It is my hope that, as for the Church, this can be a time of grace, of healing, and a call to greater honesty within a venerable and storied institution.

Bedrest, Day II

2011-11-09T09:06:00.001-05:00

I am, arguably, the worst of patients. My doctor ordered me to bedrest for the entire week, which I have been interpreting as "so long as you can see your bed, you're okay." I did manage to sleep for another nine hours last night - up from my usual 5-6 hours - and in my mailbox this morning I found "Care Package I" from one of my students. Inside CPI I were three tea bags, a letter, and three small envelopes filled with jokes to brighten my mood. I might not have a son or a daughter to make me breakfast in bed, but this certainly falls into the realm of gracious kindness I would associate with kids.

It's acts like this, to be sure, that keep me from eating freshmen alive in Latin class - sometimes, they are really funny!

Pneumonia Week: A Public Service Announcement for Students and Subs

2011-11-07T20:09:00.000-05:00

Since I've been ordered to bed for the week (on my doctor's orders) I've recorded the following video for my sophomore New Testament students. To the Substitute teachers covering my class:

Do not allow them to do any other work during these periods. The Mass is important and they need to read about it!
They are to work on their own.
They are to work silently (yes, SILENTLY).
They need to bring their book to class each day
Show the video below. If you showed the video before reading #1-4, please do that now.

Loving the Church

2011-11-07T08:27:00.003-05:00

I have the habit of reading two books simultaneously: one book in the morning (generally something spiritual) and, for bedtime reading, something a bit heftier. Right now my bedtime reading is Peter Geach's God & The Soul and my morning reading is The Four Loves by C. S. Lewis.

This last week, one of my students raised the critique that he didn't want to be a member of the Catholic Church because it was hypocritical. I was sort of shocked by this, given that I thought it wholly obvious that the Church is so often hypocritical that it seems as though its hypocrisy should simply be taken for granted.

The last few days have shown up a great deal of institutional hypocrisy. We've watched as the drama of the Texas Judge who beat his daughter unfolded; Penn State University is reeling after the revelations of sex abuse and attempts to cover it up have come to light. Even the Boy Scouts have had to face the accusation, if not the revelation, that it has concealed the abuse of a minor within its charge. From one standpoint, it's tempting to say, "See! There are other hypocritical and corrupt organizations out there...why don't we pick on them? Leave off on the Catholics for a bit, there's plenty of corruption out there to sensationalize!"

Even if this were true, it does not change the fact that the Church has messed up in the past and it has squandered the trust placed in it by many. Modifying slightly Lewis's own works from The Four Loves, one might even say that the Catholic Church must write

...the full confession by the [Catholic Church] of the [Catholic Church's] specific contribution to the sum of human cruelty and treachery. Large areas of "the World" will not hear us till we have publicly disowned much of our past. Why should they? We have shouted the name of Christ and enacted the service of Moloch. (Moloch being associated with child sacrifice)

With courage and honesty, the Church needs to take ownership of its past. We have done great and mighty things in proclaiming God's Kingdom but, as any human organization, we've made some huge errors. Our credibility rests on our being able to take ownership of the past and show how we have learned from our mistakes so that we may go forward.

When the student asked why it is that someone could love the Church, I could say only, "I love the Church not because she's perfect, but because she's mine." I learned to pray in the Church, I learned how to surrender myself to the Mystery of Creation, how to find strength in times of turmoil, how to find comfort in sorrow, how to give thanks in times of joy, how to be a human being. In the ten years since the clergy sex abuse cases came to national attention in Boston, I have seen the Church at her worst...and as a member of the Society of Jesus, I have seen her also at her best. Even when I wanted to pull out my remaining hair in frustration, I have always been able to return to my steadfast belief that this is Christ's Church and the reason I get frustrated is because I do love it. If I have learned nothing else these years, it is how to have patience with what it is that one loves.

Watching Jesus Pray?

2011-10-29T10:34:00.002-04:00

I spent this week teaching the sophomores about how the author of Mark's Gospel portrayed Jesus. Working through the textbook and looking at the Gospel itself, we have been working to understand what 'Mark' accented and highlighted and then questioning why these emphases were important to the author.

One thing I have found is that many of my students seem to think that the crucifixion was simply a minor inconvenience, a necessary-yet-regrettable occurrence for Jesus. In an effort to help them another way of viewing Jesus, I had them watch a YouTube clip of Jesus Christ Superstar. The clip I chose, "Gethsemane", is but one interpretation of the events following the Last Supper. We listened to the song twice, once by watching the clip, the second time while reading the lyrics. We tried to be attentive to both music and lyrics. If you're interested in viewing it for yourself:

Two things I noticed:

The kids very quickly understood that this was Jesus' prayer. The prayer starts with Jesus' stated want, his expressed desire: to let the cup of poison pass from his lips. The whole song is the working out of this desire until, as lush strings carry his prayers into the horizon of the rising sun, he accedes to God's will. The God whom he knew as his Abba holds "all the cards" and has been behind this the whole time, thus by the end of the song Jesus accepts the consequences of his mission. He does not "see the future" so much as he reads the signs of the times; he accepts the fate of all prophets who dare to defy the powers and principalities in a sinful and broken world.
One way of mapping this sung prayer is by considering it in light of the Kübler-Ross 5-Stage Model of Grief. Recall that Kübler-Ross saw five nodal points that seemed to be common as people negotiated the experience of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. While the merits of this typography can be contested, it is interesting to consider the song "Gethsemane" in light of this model. At the very least, it gave the students a lens to focus on the material and helped to frame our discussion in a way that seemed, to me at least, meaningful.

For many of my students, the study of Jesus is difficult because they don't have either the cultural or liturgical context to place him. Without an imagination that has been formed by the liturgy or a given Christian sensibility, approaching the study of Jesus Christ from the standpoint of art, music, and literature provides one way to gain traction in presenting the Messiah. If nothing else, it served yesterday as a good point of departure for some interesting discussions and, I get the sense, some of my more hardened skeptics walked away with the sense that there might be more to this "Jesus fellow" than they might have first thought.