In recent weeks, I have been searching for sources which provide updates about the Pope and the Vatican, but have been pretty unsuccessful. The closest which I have come to finding such updates may be found at the Vatican’s web site, but these require a little bit of mining through foreign languages in order to wiggle my way to an English translation. (Thanks be to God for the similarities of the Romance languages, otherwise I would be completely lost.) While browsing my selection of RSS feeds last week, I came across some articles which stated that through a new website, Pope2You, the Pope and the happenings of the Church were going to be made more easily accessible via Internet technologies such as YouTube, Wiki, Facebook and an iPhone app. I was enamoured by the idea: no more sifting through the (sometimes good) interpretations of various news agencies, but hearing things straight from the horse’s mouth.

But, unfortunately for me, the majority of the articles which I came across were premature in their conclusions (or, just inaccurate). The website was launched in conjunction with the 43rd World Communications Day, mainly in order to propagate the Pope’s message to all Catholics on this occasion, but also to open up some new avenues by which Catholics may remain in touch with the larger Church. The website is essentially a hub to four different locations: 

1. WikiCath. At this point, it doesn’t appear to be a Wiki. It is an exposition of the Pope’s message, as the page from Pope2You states, but, currently, it is just that. (I’m unsure if this is eventually going to become a “Catholic Wikipedia” or not. One can hope.)
2. Facebook App. A simple application which, as of now, provides about 20 different postcards (with a picture and a brief quote from the Pope) which one may send to his friends.
3. iPhone App. Since I don’t have an iPhone, I cannot directly comment. However, I had one of my iPhone-enabled friends check it out, and he tells me that it provides a video feed from H2Onews. 
4. YouTube: Vatican. A link to the Vatican’s YouTube channel, which now hosts just over 200 videos of the Pope’s messages and meetings, etc.

While the speed with which the new technologies have evolved in terms of their efficiency and reliability is rightly a source of wonder, their popularity with users should not surprise us, as they respond to a fundamental desire of people to communicate and to relate to each other. This desire for communication and friendship is rooted in our very nature as human beings and cannot be adequately understood as a response to technical innovations. In the light of the biblical message, it should be seen primarily as a reflection of our participation in the communicative and unifying Love of God, who desires to make of all humanity one family. When we find ourselves drawn towards other people, when we want to know more about them and make ourselves known to them, we are responding to God’s call – a call that is imprinted in our nature as beings created in the image and likeness of God, the God of communication and communion.

 

The desire for connectedness and the instinct for communication that are so obvious in contemporary culture are best understood as modern manifestations of the basic and enduring propensity of humans to reach beyond themselves and to seek communion with others. In reality, when we open ourselves to others, we are fulfilling our deepest need and becoming more fully human. Loving is, in fact, what we are designed for by our Creator. Naturally, I am not talking about fleeting, shallow relationships, I am talking about the real love that is at the very heart of Jesus’ moral teaching: “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” and “You must love your neighbour as yourself” (cf. Mk 12:30-31). In this light, reflecting on the significance of the new technologies, it is important to focus not just on their undoubted capacity to foster contact between people, but on the quality of the content that is put into circulation using these means. I would encourage all people of good will who are active in the emerging environment of digital communication to commit themselves to promoting a culture of respect, dialogue and friendship.

In the Southside of Birmingham, there are two churches which represent two different rites of Catholicism: St. Elias Maronite Catholic Church and St. George Greek Melkite Catholic Church. I have prayed with them in their respective liturgies and have found that I more deeply appreciate the heritage and the tradition which they have brought to the whole Church: the plethora of singing and chanting; the proud use of incense; the bells; the reverence and kissing (not worship) of icons and Scripture; the use of Arabic, Aramaic, and Lebanese languages; the use of all of these sacramentals creates an “atmosphere” of worshiping Someone. Though I am a Roman Catholic, I usually find that I resonate more with the traditions and approaches to Christian life, thought, and prayer of Eastern Catholicism than with that of Roman Catholicism. (This is in no way a denunciation of Roman Catholicism, nor that Eastern Catholicism is “right,” and Roman Catholicism is “wrong.” It is merely an affirmation of my resonance with Eastern Christianity – I find it to be more “home-y”.)

Thinking of these liturgical rituals (as well as Eastern Catholic “thought,” “prayer,” and the many other avenues down which one could travel) leads one to realize that there is a depth to Catholicism of which many of us are unaware (I will be forever-digging, too, it seems). There are thousands of books, teachings, and ways of life from multiple cultures (indeed, continents) which span over 2,000 years. Of the writings which I’ve had the opportunity to encounter so far (both in East and West), most can be described as nothing short of beautiful: adages of holy people and complete works, seemingly-forgotten philosophical, theological, and spiritual treatises, each of which portray how a particular person, in a particular time, and in a particular culture, strives for sanctity, that is, for union with God in this (daily-lived) life. It reminds one that there is something more to being Catholic than what is generally portrayed in the mainstream media (that is, clerical collars and bishops’ mitres mixed with conflict, misunderstandings, fear, scandal, conspiracy, authoritarianism, etc.). 

For example, whenever one hears the word “Catholic,” their mind is (often enough) immediately drawn to teachings, disciplines, and practices which are Catholic, but more accurately, Roman Catholic. That is, the average person, and, oftentimes, the average Catholic, is accustomed to associating Catholicism with its largest “branch”: the Roman Rite of the Catholic Church. It is little known, however, that there are nearly 30 more rites in the Catholic Church (including the two found here in Birmingham), and, while held together in the same beliefs under the (unifying) teaching authority of the Pope, have different traditions which grew out of the times and cultures in which they originated. Some of these traditions were begun by the Apostles* themselves and continue very strongly (especially as regards the preservation of their rituals in their respective “Divine Liturgies”).

The question that I have for those who can be so critical of the Church is: how much do they really know about the Catholic Church? Following popular criticisms of Catholicism, it seems, not very much. It is often so many inflamed catchphrases and assumptive labels which usually mean nothing, but do stir some people up (for that’s what they’ve always heard). As Archbishop Fulton Sheen has said, “There are not a hundred people in America who hate the Catholic Church. There are millions of people who hate what they wrongly believe to be the Catholic Church, which is of course, quite a different thing.”

For many critics, it seems, the Church is simply the place which is visited once per week to remain in good standing before the eyes of God, that is, as a bare minimum effort which doesn’t strive to go further into living the mysteries of Christianity. For many others, the Church is simply an instrument of authority through which the masses may be controlled by “old men.”** In both of these cases, the realization that the Catholic Church is not just the Roman Catholic Church (with all of the ideas and [mis]understandings found therein) calls us to appreciate the fact that there is more which is waiting to be discovered in the life of the Christian and of the Church. (More than just those things which are often dismissively and superficially portrayed.) For the former, it speaks of an appreciation and a living of the Christian life from a different perspective, which may serve to deepen their own faith in its daily practice. For the latter also, the distancing from what is perceived to be the “Roman Catholic Church” may provide an opportunity to see the Church in a new light and from a different perspective: away from what is perceived to be “dogmas,” “rules,” and “blind obedience,” and into a fresh look at worship and reverence of the God Whom we believe to have started the Church.

Before the presidential election in 2008, Catholic Vote (a project of Fidelis Center for Law and Policy) released a well-made video which urged Catholics to consider the most important issues which are facing our culture: the recognition of the dignity of every human life (from conception to natural death) and the strengthening of the family (“the building block of society,” following the teaching of John Paul II). Although this video was well-made and moving, I was left a little dumbstruck at how the ending statement had seemingly deflated what had been built up in the previous three minutes. It is, after all, imperative to vote using one’s conscience; however, the ambiguity of the word “conscience” in our society and the consequent ease with which the phrase can be misconstrued left me wondering about its appropriateness in this particular video.

Since the release of this video, Catholic Vote has released two more: one shortly following Obama’s installation as President and the other within the last week. In contrast to the possible ambiguity of their first release, both of these videos have pro-life messages which are very well thought out and presented. They are able, I believe, to reach to people on both sides of the debate with presentations which are realistic and enlightening.

On many occasions, they tried to air their first video on national television, but were unsuccessful. They had hoped to present it during the last Super Bowl (on CBS) and during President Obama’s first State of the Union address (on CNN). It would have been a very compelling message to hear during the President’s address, but it was rejected because the networks did not want to entangle themselves in an issue as weighty as abortion. It’s an odd thing to hear from a TV network, as they seem all-too-comfortable presenting controversial material – including abortion – every day.*

The second video has no parallel event which would make it as apropos as the first, but it is also very beautifully made and very convincingly argued. They are, as far as I am aware, trying to have this one aired during the American Idol finale and are currently raising funds in order to make the ad go live.

Give ‘em a peek and let me know what you think.

Although this will be considered by some to be “old news,” there still seems to be a confusion amongst the general public as to why Notre Dame’s decision to give President Obama an honorary doctorate and allowing him to be the commencement speaker is an issue, much less newsworthy. After all, he is the President, right? For this, he could just as well be given an honorary doctorate at any university. So, why is this an issue at the nation’s best known Catholic university?

The mission of Catholic schools, first and foremost, is to spread the Gospel through its environment, its curriculum, its decisions (both public and private), etc. This does not mean that everyone who attends must be Catholic, nor that every class (in whatever subject) will be used as an opportunity for captive-audience-proselytization. Rather, it means that through its various classes and other works, it will retain (and be faithful to) its Catholic identity. That is, it should remain a faithful Catholic. This, I think, is to be expected of any institution, that it remain faithful to its identity and roots in order to continue to identify itself with said group. When a living thing dies, it is no longer “alive,” but “dead.” It no longer belongs to the “institution” of living things.

Unfortunately, as will be readily attested by many faithful Catholics, just because a university (or other institution) was begun as a Catholic institution, does not mean that it remains so. As a matter of fact, the list of “steadily” Catholic institutions of higher education (as compiled by the Cardinal Newman Society) is rather small. (There is the possibility that there should be more – or less – schools on that list, but that is besides the point.) The granting of an honorary doctorate and the opportunity to deliver the commencement speech at a university is, well, an honor. And this honor is bestowed on an individual in order to recognize some accomplishment(s) of the recipient. One would assume that the commencement speaker sought would not be found in contradiction to the school or its principles. For example, I cannot imagine that Auburn University (which has a strong agricultural program) would honor Pamela Anderson (a loyal and outspoken PETA supporter) with a degree, nor an opportunity to deliver the commencement speech. In a similar, but more serious way, the (Catholic) University of Notre Dame has invited a man, regardless of which office he holds, of whom it is well-known that he stands in direct opposition to fundamental teachings and beliefs which it should hold proudly and joyfully as a Catholic institution (and would certainly be justified in being humored by such a proposition). I mean, would a Jewish institution invite Mel Gibson’s father, who has denied that the Holocaust ever happened, to receive such an honor (or any honor, for that matter)? Would Islamic jihadistsinvite George Bush over to congratulate him for a “job well done”? Why would an institution whose name means “Our Lady” invite a man who has consistently promoted agendas which are in direct opposition to many of its most sincere and foundational beliefs to their ceremony to grant this honor to him? They (being Father Jenkins and the supporting staff) have honored a man who, in action, hates what they (should) hold most dearly.

The problem which arises from this is that this is a source of tremendous scandal, especially so amidst the confusion which already exists amongst both Catholics and non-Catholics alike. What message is this sending to the world? It would surely seem as if everyone knew that the Catholic Church is opposed to many of President Obama’s actions (an understanding ofwhy this is so is a different issue), yet here is a Catholic institution honoring him with a doctorate. This can be easily interpreted (especially for the estimated 50-plus percent of Catholics who voted for Obama), as a stamp of approval on a man who has continuously fought against beliefs which are (and should be) foundational for all Catholics. For whatever reason they have decided to honor him (more than likely because of some falsely perceived “social justice” platform), those responsible have simultaneously honored a man who has supported abortion at all stages of pregnancy (and, in Illinois, even for the killing of those babies who weren’t “successfully” aborted), sent millions of dollars to other countries in order to facilitate abortions in the middle of an economic crisis, intends to allow funding for the destruction of human embryos in order to harvest unstable stem cells which have never cured anything (while shunning adult stem cells which have already cured many), not to mention his apparent inclination to socialism (to which the Church is strongly opposed), and his general attitude of moral relativism (“I personally ’believe’ this is wrong, but who am I to force my ‘beliefs’ on others?”, which Pope Benedict has repeatedly called “the major evil facing the church.“). This is not a man whom the Church (in any of her institutions) should honor because of his actions, thereby presenting the message that “This man is one whom we should uphold as a model to be followed,” because his actions are (intentionally or not) violent to the beliefs and teachings of Catholicism (especially those which are foundational to the teachings on social justice). I am not advocating that Catholics should write him off as intrinsically evil and condemn him outright, nor that the Church should close the possibility of open dialog with him, but I do not believe that providing an environment whereby his actions could be perceived as “acceptable” is in the realm of right judgment.

In closing, I would like to thank the 350,000-plus people who have petitioned Fr. Jenkins of Notre Dame to rescind his invitation to President Obama, as well as all of those who have protested, and the unfortunate few (including Dr. Alan Keyes) who have been arrested thus far because of their protest. Because of their actions, the murkiness of this event has been clarified some and the public was exposed to the dichotomy which has presented itself in light of the university’s decision.

About a week ago, as I was hesitantly arising from my night of sleep, I heard the birds in the tree outside of my window singing, chirping, and making other mysterious chants to the neighborhood birds. This is a normal occurrence where I live – one that is easily overlooked when going about my daily duties (such as mustering the willingness to get out of the bed). On this particular day, however, I was immediately struck with the realization that these birds are always going about their days with a tune flowing forth from their little beaks. As a matter of fact, I cannot recall a day in my life when birds weren’t making some sort of announcement to the bird community: “Hey, did you guys hear about Fred? Poor guy stood on the wrong power line,” or cooing about the longing for dropped bread. They are always bringing in the day with song, a welcoming of and participation in the adventure which is the new day. Birds, I think (or hope, for some) we would all agree, sing. It’s part of what birds do (and do faithfully).

What struck me even more strongly, however, was the realization that humans, too, were created to sing, and to sing faithfully. This does not necessarily mean vocalizing one’s song (although, as St. Augustine tells us, “he who sings prays twice”), but it does mean that we were created in order to glorify God through who we are (both as humans and as individuals) and what we do. The bird, as a bird, can do nothing other than what it was intended to do (i.e., be a bird and do bird things), and, in so doing, it glorifies (and points us to) our Creator.

We, however, having been endowed with reason and free-will, can choose to not sing. We can ignore, deny, refuse, and, really, deprive ourselves of the dignity which we have been given in having been made in the image of God and restored to His likeness in our imitation of Christ. For it is only when we live our lives in submission to the way in which we were created (i.e., human nature) that we will truly enjoy life as we were always intended to enjoy it: to its fullest. This requires that we engage the whole human person: a “composition” of body and soul. When we live our lives (Christian or not) as if there is no God, we are depriving ourselves of something which is essential to who we are, for we have been created in order to glorify God by our freely-willed actions, as birds glorify God by singing. Realizing, in our daily lives, that we have been created by God frees us to act most fully according to the nature we have been given. It is only when we open ourselves to both the seen and unseen realities (that is, reason and faith) that we are capable of realizing our potential as humans, and of what it means to be human.

The living of life without God, whether because of the belief that material things are all that really exist, or simply because it is “easier” to live life without God (i.e., as one wants), has consequences which are all too apparent in our times: the neglect of human dignity, the elevation of “humanity” as the ultimate good, the unreasonable and emotive “arguments” which are put forth in order to do what one feels he should be able to do. All of these, in their many and various manifestations, point to a loss of the vision of God (at least for the louder and more powerful of our contemporaries; it seems that the majority of average folk retain common sense or otherwise haven’t reasoned themselves into unreasonable positions).

This brings me to my point: what if the birds didn’t sing? How much less enjoyable would a morning of sitting on the porch be? How deprived would the whole of nature be without the songs of birds? (Not to mention the consequences on their species were they unable to communicate with one another.) But isn’t the same true of us? We are the pinnacle of created beings, and are capable of many great things simply because we are human. But, with our “song” removed from our lives and our actions (and from the “theatre” of the world), how much worse is the world? What if we were to act as we were meant to, to glorify God through our actions? How much more glorious and meaningful would our simple daily tasks be? How would these little “songs” resound throughout the world, the community of humanity? How much are we depriving ourselves of the joys of human life because we’re neglecting the way in which we were created?

Though I am not advocating that the world is doomed or hopeless, nor that there are no “songs” already being sung, I am convinced that were we to regain the openness to the reality and presence of God, the human family would begin to flourish (individually, communally, and globally) because of our humility. For we must first see what is true before we can order our lives according to those truths, as the bird “knows” its place and sings its song as it was created to do.

Almost a year ago now, I was given a small crucifix from a friend in Mexico. I had been searching for one to carry around with me as a reminder of Christ’s presence and the work which He has accomplished (and continues to accomplish) in my life and in the life of the world. It’s old, only about three inches long, the cross and corpus are made of the same metal, and it’s very light; it’s very convenient to carry my cross in my pocket.

This brings me to the question: “What does it mean to carry one’s cross?” Christ has told us in many ways that we must pick up our crosses daily in order to be in Him, in order to merit life in abundance in this world and in the world to come. But what does this mean in the practicalities of our day-to-day lives? What does this mean to the person who sits in the chair receiving chemotherapy? For the loved one who sits in the waiting room? For the doctors and nurses who administer these treatments? What does it mean for the person who stays at home and cleans up the dishes and takes care of the clothes? For the person who goes to work – day in and day out – carrying out what can become a monotonous routine?

It seems that the carrying of the cross, and (consequently, what makes the load of the cross “light”) is the vision of Christ throughout our lives – whether we are going through tough or “normal” times. For it is only in the vision of Christ, the vision of God, that we are able to take in the larger context of what it means to exist as a part of Christ’s body, as one of His children. In the vision of Christ, the God Who became man, we will become simultaneously aware of the larger body that exists with (and independent of) us, as well as take those events which we are facing in the light of eternity, rather than seeing only what is in front of us. For if we see things solely in the light of (or, rather, in the darkness of) ourselves without the illumination of Christ, then we will be all the more inclined to make them more important than they really are. The cross will be a heavy burden, unbearable even, when not taken up in Christ; boredom, depression, anger, anxiety: all of these terrible deprivations of human life can gain a strong grounding in our lives, eventually sucking the life (which comes from Christ) out of life.

“But,” you may ask, “what does the little pocket crucifix have to do with this?” The pocket crucifix (read: object or devotion which brings your vision to God) is a sacramental. It is a tangible reminder of eternity. It is something that I can see, touch, smell, etc.; it engages my humanity to look beyond mere appearance and think of (reflect on, be grateful for) what it signifies. It brings my mind in touch with the redemption of Christ and the blessings which flow therefrom: the words and actions of Christ, the lives of the saints, the freedom He has won, the virtue which He calls me to, the truth that I am His child. With each turn towards God, we will become gradually (surprisingly?) aware that God is, in reality, still looking at us. In fact, His gaze never ceased. His love is continuously pouring down on us; we must first see and receive in order to spread this same love, in order to carry this cross.

1. e-mail proposedrescission@hhs.gov,
2. sending your comments via NCHLA – sponsored by the USCCB (also, it has a generic message which you may edit before sending),
3. visiting the U.S. Government Regulations website and enter “0991-AB49″ in the search box (via Word, Wordperfect, or Excel),
4. mailing one original and two copies via snail mail to: Office of Public Health and Science, Department of Health and Human Services, Attention: Rescission Proposal Comments, Hubert H. Humphrey Building, 200 Independence Avenue SW, Room 716G, Washington, D.C. 20201.

Here is an argument against the proposed rescission, which you may use in contacting them, if you so choose:

I am writing today to ask those who are in charge to retain the conscience regulations which are in place to protect health care workers from providing services which they regard as morally offensive. I find that this destroys the freedom and autonomy of the individual to act according to his or her conscience, which I find, in itself, to be morally offensive. Removing this protection would prevent citizens from acting freely, according to their most deeply held convictions (which shape who we are), forcing them either to be penalized, resign, or act as “robots” of the State’s bidding, none of which respect the dignity and autonomy of the human person to act on his or her own free will according to the formation of their conscience. It would also seem that, were this regulation be eliminated, the problem would then be prepared to spread itself throughout the rest of the institutions of our country. And then, are we all to bow before the will of the State (read: those few who are in control and want their will obeyed through the power of the State), regardless of the things which we believe and especially those which believe to be duties higher than those of the State? The consequences of eliminating these regulations would be the beginning (continuing?) of the removal of the ability of the person to act according to his own mind and will, rendering him (for all practical purposes) less than human and nothing more than a blind instrument of the State: consequences which have nothing to do with “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” for all citizens of the United States.

Sincerely,

Name, Address, etc.

I have read and skimmed through the article which you have sent me and have discovered that the clip in the e-mail would have been enough to suffice for what was to follow in the rest of the article. It is, from beginning to end, simply an attack on the character of a man with whom the author does not even seem to have any familiarity at all – else he would not lower himself to speak so superficially and dismissively about him. Nor would he have any reason to hold the Dalai Lama up on a pedestal (also a religious leader) while simultaneously attempting to attack a man who sticks to what he believes to be true – a characteristic in men, I think you would agree, that is lacking in our day in time (and is consequently a courageous thing, in my opinion). My question to him would be, how quickly would he remove the Dalai Lama from his pedestal were he to pronounce a statement against the same issue? The answer to me would appear to be that because the Dalai Lama has not pronounced anything against contraception, he is fair game to be used as an example to be followed – but, were he to do so, were he to pronounce something against what this author holds to be “good,” “right,” “just,” etc., he would write the same scathing article denouncing him. Now, the question then to ask is: who set him up as the dogmatic figure who may pronounce what is truly good, right, and just? He only supports the Dalai Lama because he supposes that the Dalai Lama falls in line with his beliefs – not because he actually cares what the Dalai Lama says. At the pinnacle of irony, who set him up as Pope? This, to me, is as “dogmatic” as it gets. But, this problem continues to multiply as you have multitude upon multitude of Mr. Morford’s running around declaring that what they think to be good, right, and just truly is, because they say so. And on what authority? With the Pope, there is only one figure who has been granted authority by Christ (who we, as Christians, believe to be God in the flesh) to sustain unity of belief (i.e., what God has revealed to us both through nature and through Scripture and Tradition) among His children.

Now, I know that we are coming from two different angles on the authority of the Pope and religion, etc., but I think that we can both agree that having millions of “popes” rather than one is a source of tremendous confusion and turmoil: if there are millions of different views of what is truly “good, right, and just,” then there’s not really unity – there’s just people doing what they want to do when they want to do it. How can any society (regardless of what its Constitution says) be expected to run something that is chaotic to the very core? I think that we can both see the manifestations of this at work right now. But, the thing that we have to come back to is that there’s only one truth, only one reality: the tree that you see is the same tree that I see; the Abita Amber that you drink is the same Abita Amber that I drink; the Mississippi River that you (hopefully ;) don’t swim in is the same Mississippi River that I don’t swim in. And this remains true even if one of us decides to deny the reality that is before us. If we were standing together in an open field with only one tree, and we go back to our friends and I (confused by the glare of the sun, but nonetheless fixed in my conviction), say “we stood by an elephant,” while you (unaffected by the sun because of your Ray Ban’s) said “no, we stood by a tree,” the truth remains (no matter how adamantly I believe and speak of my elephantile misperception) that I did, indeed, stand by a tree. The truth remains true regardless if one sees or believes it. And so it is with everything else in our universe – things seen and unseen – because truth is not created by us, it is received by us.

Now, back to the Pope and Mr. Morford: on what authority do they stand?

Mr. Morford: as far as I can perceive from his writing, a man with an axe to grind because a religious leader doesn’t conform to his beliefs. Where do his beliefs come from? I would surmise that his beliefs largely come from himself and what he “feels” to be “good, right, and just” by “his own” conscience, which could very well conflict with the respective consciences of his many fellow world-inhabitors. For, if there is no God (or we have killed Him, as Nietzsche wrote), what else has man left but himself to look to? Now, why would I want to follow my own, much less the beliefs of another man who stands by himself (i.e., on his own authority) in asserting what is objectively “good, right, and just,” regardless if it corresponds with what is actually true? Should one of our friends, visiting the field and seeing not an elephant, but a tree, stand with me who proclaims that the tree is an elephant because I say so? Or should, he, seeing the tree, stand by you, who stood by what is really true?

The Pope: a man who, on being elected, stated that he was but an unworthy laborer in the vineyard of the Lord, which says from the get-go that he is not laboring for himself (and even didn’t want to be elected, but wanted to retire and to finish his life writing books). Where do his beliefs come from? His beliefs are the beliefs which the Catholic Church has always taught, which, he believes were and are the teachings which Christ (God) Himself gave to the world in His time on earth. The authority on which he stands is the authority which Christ granted to the Apostle Peter, of whom he is a successor. Therefore, his responsibility is to hand on the objective truth about what God has willed for our universe and for our race. That is, God Himself, in human flesh, gave Peter (and his successors), whom He knew personally, authority to proclaim the one Truth, Himself, Who is found in everything which is true – seen and unseen. To end the contrast between the two, the Pope isn’t arbitrarily dogmatic, just because he believes it to be true, regardless as to whether it actually is, but proclaims that which God has entrusted to him to proclaim. He is “dogmatic” in the sense that the office which God has given him is to preserve those things which are always true, regardless of times and cultures. He stands by you, proclaiming that the tree is actually a tree, and not by me, who proclaims that the tree is an elephant, when it is only my misperception and adherence to it which I adhere to. A tree is a tree, regardless if I believe it or not. In the same way, murder is murder and is wrong, regardless of the time and culture it happens in.

Finally, from this to the complaint of the article: by not allowing the use of condoms (or, rather, not adhering to the dogma of Mr. Morford), the Pope is condemning millions to die. The fact is that, the Pope, by the authority with which he has been entrusted, is reaching to a deeper truth about man than simply a superficial “use of condoms.” From the way which I have argued thus far, he is saying that condoms engender an attitude, an inclination, in man which is contrary to the way in which God created us (and, I think, STD’s are an indication that “things aren’t supposed to happen this way”). Condoms are promoted as a way to have “safe sex,” but in reality, it promotes sex without consequence [and is even ineffective as a method of prevention - the safest condom in the world only offers an 85% chance of effectiveness, and none of them are tightly woven enough to prevent the transmission of HIV/AIDS through the condom] , i.e., it provides a way for man to not control his sexual inclinations – not controlling them by the gifts of reason and free will (which distinguish us from other animals), but submitting (and becoming enslaved) to them, thereby lowering us beneath the dignity which we have been given. It’s like putting an infectious band-aid on a wound that needs stitches: it’s only making the underlying problem worse. As the recent statement [here or here] (which I initially thought your e-mail was related to, as your article and this one came about around the same time) of Edward Green, director of the AIDS Prevention Research Project for the Harvard Center for Population and Development Studies, of the conclusions of their research shows, the promotion of condom usage is directly related to the increase and not the decrease of AIDS/HIV, etc. It is this way for the exact reasons which the Popes have always taught about contraception: using condoms promotes sexual promiscuity (a “disordering” of the way we have been created) and it is patently obvious that sexual promiscuity was and is the cause of STD’s. I mean, remove promiscuity, and there are no more STD problems. It is a matter of self-control, of mastering oneself (which the Greek philosophers understood even before Christ’s taking on flesh, i.e., through reason), which is further supported and enlightened by God’s revelation (i.e., through faith) about man.

I know that we’re coming from two different perspectives on this issue, but I think that the facts (as supported by Edward Green of Harvard) are confirming what the Popes have been saying ever since this has been a problem (which did not begin in the 60′s, though it has certainly been a prevalent issue since then). In this case, I think that Mr. Morford is crying “elephant,” all the while the Popes have been standing by the tree and calling us to look deeper than the surface and to heal the deeper wound of selfishness and self-gratification with self-gift and self-sacrifice – which must be present for authentic love – not by furthering the damage with a tool which only makes the wound become more infected and further from healing than it already is.

But, for the past few weeks, I’ve found myself increasingly discontent with my life. I, like a good percentage of Americans, find myself looking for a job in an extremely difficult period in our nation’s short history. And so, many of my days are spent waiting for one of the companies to which I have applied to respond. Fortunately for me, I am able to stay with my parents until something does come through (at some point in the unknown). But (with the exception of the illness of my grandfather), nothing has really changed between then and now, so why do I find myself discontent?

At the root of it is something which is my own fault, and that is the slippage of my prayer life. It started out strong, vivified by the recent changes in my life. But, gradually, I became more consumed with things that were both important and not important. I began to lose the balance in my prayer life, devoting more time instead to the now “urgent” necessity of finding a job and to the increasingly “routine” chores around the house. I had let go of the opportunity to invite God into my job-searching and dish-washing, and they became boring. They became important. Other things became more “important” and “serious” while God became “unimportant” and “unserious.” And He very gradually began to take the backseat while I took the reigns. I lost sight of God and saw only myself.

It’s because of this that I’ve come to the (low) point in which I’ve found myself for a few weeks. Job searching has reached near despair, time with family has become less important, chores have become a pain: I’ve lost touch with the world around me because of my consumption with my little problem. These things have lost their “littleness,” their unimportance, their unseriousness, because I’ve lost sight of Who makes them unimportant, and I’ve lost the joy that is possible in everything that I do because I’ve lost sight of the One Who gives me a reason to be joyful regardless of where I find myself – from cleaning the dishes to looking for a job to doing something that I enjoy.

It was when my “plans,” ever so general, became my source of happiness – my god – that I began to be discontent. And, the longer that I’ve allowed this to go on, the worse I’ve gotten.

Whether I am in a constant state of anticipation of things to come or whether my “plans” come out how I wanted them to, the thing that is most important, which I have missed out on in the past few weeks, is that God is in the midst of them all. When the time comes for things to start coming together, for things to start “happening,” that’ll be great; but, in the meantime, God is still present, even when I don’t want to be, when I don’t want to accept how things are, when I would rather navel-gaze because things are not how I would have them to be according to my “plan.” Meanwhile, I’m missing out on the life which God wants to give me where He has me at now: doing dishes, spending time with my family, applying for jobs, and other “normal” things.

Why not allow these little things to be unserious? Why not make them fun? 

Why not allow His life to fill mine? What greater thing am I awaiting?

could not see,
‘cept the wrongs in me.

I searched for peace,
but could not find –
where do I get this “peace of mind”?

To me, I looked;
to Him, I cried,
“Why do I have this fear inside?”

“Look at me,” He said,
“and you will see,
there’ll be no fear … just gaze at me.”

But Who is –
what is this which I see?
Why such peace in front of – He?

He … looks from afar
as I at a flea,
but there’s something … so much different
about the way He looks at me.

His eyes so fierce,
a gaze, a pierce,
and yet, look how tenderly.

Why, O Why does He look at me so?
I look, I see my enemy;
yet, He, look at He;
see, still, His gaze set on me.

O what does He see
when He looks so at me?

“Only in Me,” He says,
“will you see what I see –
the beauty which you have,
it comes all from Me.”

“But all by yourself,
you see not Me,
not who it is that I want you to be;

for without Me, there is no you.
I AM the One Who made you to be,
therefore I see,
I see the man who gives glory to me.”

“How? How do I give glory to Thee?”
“Relax, rest, my child…
remember always this gaze which you’ve seen.”

“Then all that you need is to be who you be.”

We are each presented with particular sufferings and each face them as unique individuals who approach our sufferings in a particular way. But, despite each of our unique ways of dealing with suffering, I think, in the end, each of us (in every occasion of suffering) make one of two basic choices in dealing with suffering and our own brokenness. Hanging from early Christian tradition, we can call these two basic decisions “the path of light” and “the path of darkness.”

For example, say that one’s life is overshadowed by the anxiety and the preoccupation with a decision that has to be made. This fear pervades seemingly every moment of everyday, and brings with it the thrashing of violent surges of emotions that, in the end, paralyze the person from being their self. Because of the constancy and the intensity of the fear that is experienced, the person is, in effect, isolated from the rest of the world, that is, by allowing the fear to garner so much control over them, they are cutting themselves off from reality, and (unknowingly) allowing the fear to control them. At its worst, the fear becomes a sort of god that the person bows down before in every instance, often being driven into inaction (despondency, disconnectedness) because of the constant preoccupation with the fear (and really, a fear of the fear itself, i.e., an inactivity, indecisiveness, and even insecurity, which is borne out because of fear of arousing the fear: “can’t think that because the fear will come back,” “can’t do this because it’ll arouse the fear.”). These things I would liken to the worshiping of the god. Consequently, this way, this response to dealing with a form of suffering is the path of darkness, which, if not overcome, leads us to death (or in a sense, directly to death, as it quite literally kills the life inside of us). This way of “darkness,” chosen by us (though the “choice” is less apparent/explicit when this is our normal habit of acting) appears to be in direct opposition to the words of Jesus in John’s Gospel (10:10): “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

But why, when we have the option to do otherwise, would we ever choose the path of darkness? Once we realize that there is another option, why would we choose to be miserable, to be disconnected, to be self-centered? Why would we will our own unhappiness? Why would we choose to remain in the dark? It seems that in normal circumstances of everyday life, when we are presented with a choice that would increase our happiness versus one that would increase our sadness, we would unanimously say that we want to choose the thing that would make us happy, that would bring us to a greater appreciation of life. If this is true in everyday practical situations, then why wouldn’t we do the same for the spiritual and psychological realities of our lives? Are these realities impenetrable?

I have been listening to a lot of music which further illustrates the above points. Take, for example, Nirvana’s “You Know You’re Right,” Seether and Amy Lee’s “Broken,” and many of Staind’s songs. While I very much appreciate the honesty and the integrity with which these groups convey their (seemingly terrible) pain, I can’t seem to escape the fact that when the song is over, they’re stuck with the pain, the hurt, and the anger with nothing to draw them out of it. I have to admit the music itself is a definite start in the right direction, but, once the articulation and/or venting and processing is over, there’s not often a “light at the end of the tunnel,” that is, a reason for not re-entering another painful event in the same way. And so, without a greater hope than that which we are able to humanly deal with (by reflection, etc.), we are destined for repeating the same actions in the same way; there is nothing that pulls us out of (or away from) ourselves and to something which is greater than ourselves.

So, what are we to do with our suffering? If remaining simply on the human (or merely the emotional) level isn’t sufficient for truly allowing us to “have life in abundance” –  even when we are suffering in some way – then what is the other option? What is the “path of light”?

Going back to the particular situation, we need to remember that we are presented with a choice. On the one hand, I can wallow in my misery, allowing it to kill the spark of life in me, or I can take the other option which is not possible without the gift of God’s grace. The “path of light” is a trust and a hope in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We have to remember that regardless of the circumstances which surround us, no matter how deep is the suffering, how sharp is the pain, no matter how much we don’t want to turn to Him, or how much we feel as if He has abandoned us, He is indeed walking with us in our suffering, He is leading us through our suffering, and if we will allow Him, He will bring us to life through our suffering. This is the hope which enlightens all of the darkest places that we each encounter, for through His death and resurrection, God killed the “dark.” It is done and all that we have to do is to realize this in our daily lives and live them in accordance with this hope. Death has died, and I now have the option to walk in the light that was given to me, or to remain in the darkness that is destroyed, which is, in the light of Christ, irrelevant.

Now, this is by no means to say that suffering will no longer hurt. Suffering hurts, period. And when we experience it, the first thing that we are inclined to do is to avoid it, to become or remain “happy” in a false sense. Or, as illustrated earlier, it could be allowed to be so overwhelming that it becomes godlike for us. But, in these experiences of suffering we are able to recognize our oneness with God; it stresses the meaning of a “personal relationship” and we come to realize God’s loving presence with us through our suffering. Indeed, we become aware of the suffering of God with us, through our suffering. We cannot think that God is not affected by our suffering. If that were the case, then what was the point of the Cross? If God was indifferent to our suffering, why did He waste His time coming down to earth, to live a fully human life, to suffer, to die, and to rise? For people He doesn’t care about? God showed us His intimate closeness with us in our suffering through His actions in this life, especially in obedience to a command from His Father that terrified Him: to be mocked, spit on, slapped, scourged, humiliated, crucified, and suffocated until He died. And He did this for us – not just some abstract “humanity” but for you and I: for each of us, as individuals who are specifically loved by God.

What is necessary for us to walk the “path of light”? We have to recognize that the Cross was not the end for Christ. He had the final word in His resurrection from the dead. Through our trust in this life-giving action of God, we are able to live in the light, as “children of the light,” because the path has been illumined by His resurrection. The crucifixion happened, no doubt, and there would have been no resurrection without it, but the fact remains that Christ destroyed death and restored life to us. He doesn’t want us to turn in on ourselves with our experience of suffering, rather He wants us to be freed from the power which death and darkness had over us before He destroyed it. If He wanted us to remain where we already were, there would have been no resurrection (indeed, no Christ) and there would be no reason to believe in the Messiah Whom God the Father sent to be the spotless Lamb slain on our behalf. He died that we “may have life, and have it abundantly.” He did not come so that we may remain in the grip of death and be paralyzed by despair. His whole life as witnessed in the Gospels testifies to this reality. He came to free people from all forms of slavery: from sins, hypocrisy, demons, illnesses, and fear, and in this newfound freedom to freely choose Him, to freely choose life over death, light over darkness.

But, many of us have previously heard these things (possibly many times); so what is it that prevents us from embracing this freedom which has been given to us through the person of Jesus Christ?

I honestly believe that one of the greatest barriers to having “the freedom of the sons of God” is simply a matter of habit. I think that we too easily forget that we are, in fact, creatures of habit, and too often suppose that “one day I’ll get better” or “one day I’ll be better,” as if this were going to magically happen just by thinking it, with no real effort, no real commitment involved. But, following from the teaching of the Church and, recently, of John Paul II, it is our actions that define us and not our words nor our wishful thinking. It is what we do with what we have that matters – not what we think about our situation in life.

But, it seems, because the issue of habit is so easily forgotten or otherwise looked over, I think that it’s necessary to turn the habit of choosing the path of darkness into the habit of choosing the path of light. How this will be implemented in our daily lives can be as unique as each of us are. When we are feeling down, disconnected, overwhelmed, paralyzed, it’s of utmost importance to first recognize that God knows this and wants to free us and wants us to live in His light and to be wrapped in His love. Then, we can make an act of faith: as often as it occurs (and even when it doesn’t) call on His name, invite the Holy Spirit to come; be reminded of what God has already accomplished and what He wants to accomplish. The important thing to remember is that we have to be diligent, both in our awareness and in our practice of choosing to live life in God’s light. God will bless our virtuous attempts to arise from darkness through the grace which inspires us and enables us to take such a step towards Him. Gradually (this is a battle, after all), the grace-led struggle to choose light over darkness will become ingrained in us, part of us, and we will more naturally turn towards God, not only in our struggles, but also in the rest of our lives, because we are cooperating with Him: His grace is flourishing through our effort; He is working with us and we with Him. We are seeking to live the life of abundance which our Lord promised that we may have in Him, and because we actively seek, “we will find,” because we knock, “the door will be opened to us.”

And what is the door at which we knock? I think that it is the door which opens us to the ever present moment which God is always in: the moment of now. Rather than turning in on ourselves and falling into the black hole of navel-gazing darkness, becoming disconnected from the present moment: ourselves, others, work, leisure – whatever is in front of us – we are enveloped in the things that are most important, those things that are part of our day-to-day lives and, in a sense, we become one with them. We become transparent and “caught up” in existence, which brings us to God, for He alone is the source and master of those things which truly are, which truly exist. In other words, by choosing to live in the light, we are choosing to remain in the only place that we really are anyway (and everything else is): not in the scruples of the past, nor in the uncertainties of the future, but in the bliss of the present moment, where God is always found, pouring forth His light and His grace which sustains us in our faith, in our hope, and in our love.

It is only by choosing to remain in Him that we see our smallness, for the greatness of His light illumines the vastness of created things and the little place that we occupy in the midst of them. We are given a glimpse of humility, seeing and accepting things as they truly are, seeing things how God sees them. There is no doubt in my mind that sometimes this is with sorrow, but never without seeing it for what it is: a passing shadow in the midst of a grander picture, a picture which always shows forth the unsurpassable joy, love, and freedom which was won for (and is always available to) us by our loving God in and through Christ Jesus.

The title of this paper turned out to be a little misleading. I was assigned this topic by my professor, and when I asked if he could recommend any sources off of the top of his head, he replied, “the Council documents would be a good place to start.” Hah. So, I did. I had also recently read Hilaire Belloc’s How the Reformation Happened, which had given me more insight into the developments which had occurred during this period of history. I soon realized that it would be impossible (and less interesting) to write this paper without taking into account the historical context.

So, borrowing from Belloc’s brilliant ability to get to the heart of the problem, I discuss the underlying problems which led the Reformers’ to act as they did; the rejection of authority because of the poor choices and behavior of some of the members of the Church, which led them in the only direction they could possibly go: to sola fide and sola Scriptura, which (as we continue to see in our own day) has as its fruit numerous “popes” and “magisteriums.” That is, because there is no longer a central authority preserving the unity of the Church in and through the Chair of Peter, we now have a multitude of “popes” and “magisteriums” handing on their version of Christianity, their interpretation of Scripture, as the “true” interpretation. This rejection of authority and necessary turn towards justification by faith alone through the individual’s interpretation of Scripture is the foundation of the rest of Protestantism. Everything Protestant rests on the above mentioned points. This will underly the rest of my arguments in this paper, from the Protestants’ positions on the Sacraments of Initiation (Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist), to the Church’s response in the Council of Trent as deliberately attacking these fundamental positions.

Although I was not terribly excited to be assigned a topic (he did give us chance to change it), this turned out to be an enlightening paper which gave me the opportunity to improve my understanding of the Reformation.

This was written in my third semester of theology at Notre Dame Seminary for The Sacraments of Initiation.

A big part of my discernment in seminary was about the issue of intimacy and how it is lived out. I wasn’t for sure what I was going to write about for this class, but since: this topic had been so prevalent in my discernment, we were going through John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, and I like to write about things I’m interested in, I decided to dig into this topic and see what I could come up with. I enjoyed the research and I learned a lot about intimacy, especially through John Paul II’s beautiful work on the spousal meaning of the body.

In the paper, I look at what intimacy means, especially as viewed through its relation to the spousal meaning of the body, then I discuss the manner in which intimacy is lived out in the married life (i.e., total, exclusive gift of self to an-other), and I close by moving into how intimacy is lived in the celibate life (i.e., total gift of self to an-Other and others), finding some very interesting parallels between the two ways of life.

This was written in my third semester of theology at Notre Dame Seminary for Human Sexuality and the States of Life.

Although it wasn’t my original “intention” to pick up the topic of leisure again, when I began digging into the encyclicals, the writings of Belloc and Chesterton, and others, the theme continued to present itself to me. So, after making the connections a bit more solid through my research, this is the paper that I came up with.

Distributism is a social/economic theory put forth by the Chesterbelloc & Co., which is based on the social teachings of the Church (especially Rerum Novarum and Quadragesimo Anno) and the practice of parts of medieval Europe (such as England and France). In short, the distributist theory grew out of the social and political turmoil brought about by the Industrial Revolution and the response to it by communism (in particular, Marxism). These two are often seen to be the only two “ways” of social and economic governance. What distributism provides is another ”third way,” which Belloc holds to be “the only way,” as capitalism and communism are both based on faulty principles and don’t take into account a full understanding of man. My hunch is that neither allow for man to truly be free; capitalism in that it doesn’t give enough weight to the reality that man is fallen (and, consequently, provides a framework which disposes him to become enslaved by himself), and communism (as a response to capitalism) doesn’t trust man enough to exercise his genuine freedom.

The main argument of this paper is that neither (communist) socialism nor capitalism provide a social setting in which man is truly able to flourish as man. In different manifestations, man is enslaved by the oppression caused by these two systems and, consequently, is unable to be disposed to leisure, which is a necessity that should be provided for by a social/economic structure (which should respect the nature of man who it serves). As Belloc said, distributism is ”the only way;” a way which disposes man to a proper understanding and living of leisure, in which he is able to flourish as a true human being, made in the image and likeness of God.

This may have, in some way, surpassed my paper on leisure as my favorite. But the two are very closely related, and this one could not exist without the former…so let’s just say I love this topic.

Written in my third semester of theology at Notre Dame Seminary for History of the Medieval Period with Fr. Mark Raphael (who left some hilarious comments on my paper and is probably one of the greatest teachers I’ve ever had the privilege of having).

It has been an interesting road to travel down. I have learned many things, not only about myself, but also about God and philosophy and theology and other people. I have had the opportunity to make some good friends and to see a part of the Church that I had never known to exist before I entered. I can say, without a doubt, that I am excited about the future of our Church because of the quality of men whom I’ve had the privilege to meet in my time here. I am honored to have spent the past three and a half years with these guys and in this environment. God has really blessed me and revealed to me in a very awe-inspiring way the abundance of His intimate love and concern for me. He has always heard my prayers, and always answers them, even if I have no clue about how He is working in me. As I said, I thought I was going to be a priest – but God brought me here and taught me about His greatness and His complete mastery over creation; no matter the bigness of my problems, nor the problems that occur in the world – God is joyfully present and completely in control, even if we cannot see it. It’s both amazing and humbling to see how He works through our cooperation with Him – it stretches the heights of my imagination, and does not cease to inspire true fear (reverence) in me.

So, now, onto the reasons. Like I’ve already said a few times, if you’d asked me at least through my first two years whether I was going to be a priest, the answer would’ve been a “yes” without hesitation. But, there has often been a sense of not “fitting in,” even if I didn’t realize why this was so; and still I journeyed on to ordination in 2011. Before 2008, though, this began to be a continuing presence, to the point that I was often just not at peace with myself, others, nor God – but I still couldn’t put my finger on it. Some of it certainly stemmed from problems other than just discernment, but that has also been a part of my own growth here at the seminary (I, nor others, who are in seminary are perfect upon entrance, arrival, nor exit).

In January of 2008, while in Washington D.C., for the March for Life, one of my best friends at seminary disclosed that he was considering leaving the seminary at the end of the semester. I was completely shocked. He, of any person that I knew in the seminary, would have made a great priest (in my estimation). (As a side note, this same person was a great blessing in my growth in the seminary in many ways: very human, a clear thinker, well-balanced and -rounded, and apparently secure in who he was.) But, as he revealed his reasonings why he was considering leaving, I was simultaneously taken aback because I had been experiencing the same things, and even revealed that it may have been my last semester as well (simply just to take some time off). This put the bug in my ear: maybe you’re not called to be a priest. First time that that thought had really ever come into my mind. (If there’s anything I’d like to offer to those who are in discernment, it would be this: don’t close your ears, God may still be talking.)

And then discernment really began. I considered the possibility, brought it to my spiritual director, and just sort of let it stay in the background of my mind: “maybe you’re not.” As the semester came to a close, I began to feel as if I were called to the married life and the tension of “not fitting” began to ease; pieces were starting to come together. At the last Mass of the semester, after receiving the Eucharist, I was (a bit out of nowhere) at peace with the thought of that being my last semester, my last Mass at Notre Dame. But, not wanting to act rashly, and certainly not having talked to my spiritual director, I kept the path and went to Mexico for the summer as had been planned. I wanted to just put the whole “seminarian thing” out of my mind for the summer, and just be. Making this decision brought me to a peace which is hard to explain in words, but has been consistent in my conversations with people who I’ve talked to about it (and is the reason I have now decided to leave): life just flows … it fits me.

But the discernment didn’t stop there. Even though I intended to put it off for the summer, it got extremely intense, especially towards the end of the summer. I’d keep going back and forth with all of the questions; I’d answer questions that were pertinent to my discernment at the time, and then more would come. “What if?” and “I wonder what this meant?” and “I wonder what this means?” and “What is God trying to tell me?” “Am I the cause of this movement, or is God?” It was a very difficult situation to find myself in, especially when I was for so long sure that I was going to be a priest. It was because of this, I think, that guilt hit hard. “Maybe I’ve been slack, not trying hard enough, and that’s why things are going this way. Maybe you’re just focusing too much on what you want and not what God wants.” This is, I think, a bit of a dichotomy which I created (which I will deal with at the end of this post).

As the summer came to a close, I became more certain that my vocation was to the married life, but I kept going back and forth with my questioning: one part of the day I would have convinced myself about marriage, the next part I had convinced myself about priesthood. Back and forth and back and forth. It’s an extremely difficult place to find oneself in…you are constantly torn between a fundamental decision about who you are, and it just makes daily life that much more difficult when you don’t know which way to go. I’m 100% certain that Satan and his minions were having a good-old time helping me into this situation and doing their best to keep me in it, as well as try to convince me that it was just me involved in the confusion (i.e., that they had no hand in it, that they didn’t/don’t exist). But, from the beginning of my more intense questioning God was telling me to trust in Him through my difficulties, which lead me to the point in which I tried to stay for the whole of the fall semester: I have to get this off of my mind, and just live with God as His child, trusting that I will know eventually. Doing this (rather unsuccessfully many times), allowed me to come to a point of freedom and peace about the decision which was before me.

I think that it’s important to mention at this point (especially for those in discernment) that I think that it’s necessary to reevaluate the importance which we can be tempted to place on ourselves (especially in light of the culture in which we live and the shortage of priests). I do not say this simply as a projection, but in unison with observations in my years in seminary, as well as conversations which I have had over those years. I mean, it is definitely an important vocation, and the need for good and holy priests is certainly there, but I think that the temptation can sometimes be to a sort of implicit messiah-complex, where the seminarian or priest is the savior, and not Christ, Who is the Messiah and does the saving. I think that the role of the seminarian/priest can be taken out of its proper place and God is implicitly lost. It’s an issue of seeing one’s insignificance in relation to God, that He does not need us, that He chooses us and chooses to work through us. I do not at all think that it is the intention of any seminarian to replace God, but if he doesn’t keep himself in check then this could very well be the fruit. Now, I say all of that because of something which a professor told me last week: “It’s all too common that a person thinks that the decision to enter or leave the seminary is an irrevocable one,” which says a lot more than rests on the surface. The aspect of it which I want to emphasize is that it is necessary to see, as best and often as is possible, our littleness in the big scheme of things because of the vastness of God and His complete mastery over creation. In addition to this, I think it can also help us to reform our concept and living of “time,” which in this case (and especially in our culture), strives for efficiency, rather than a “wasting of time” with God. (For an excellent reflection of our littleness, I recommend Hilaire Belloc’s The Path to Rome - you will see what I mean when you get to the end.)

I went on this quasi-tangent because realizing my place before God was an important factor in my discernment, one which, when I began to incorporate it into my life, helped me to come to peace with my place and God’s ability to “get on without me,” if you will. From this realization (which I will always be in need of realizing) and the place of freedom and peace to which God has brought me, I have decided the way in which I have. The vocation to the priesthood is beautiful and is definitely worthy of aspiration – but, in my lived experience of my time in seminary (which is not limited solely to the seminary itself), I have come to discern that the vocation does not fit who I am, who God created me to be. And this is important. God wants me (quoting a priest who holds the highest of my admiration) to “be who I be,” for that’s why He created me – to “be who I be” and to allow Him to manifest Himself through “who I be,” for we all manifest a different aspect of God’s infinite-ness. (Realizing this helped me to deal with the “dichotomy” which I mentioned earlier.) In addition to this, something else popped into my head a few days ago (when I finally decided to stand by my decision), and that is something which I learned in philosophy which is crucial to Catholic thought. Grace builds on nature. In “being who I be” and not trying to “be who I don’t be,” God is most effectively able to work through me, because His grace builds on who He created me to be (for you more philosophical/theological folks: not that His grace wouldn’t be available if I were to become a priest, but that, normally, His grace builds up and brings to perfection what He intended through His creating it).

Being able to come to this position has been a long and arduous one (probably more so because of my own anxieties), but the results have been worth the struggle. I was able to grow closer to God and more aware of myself because of this increasing closeness. It is indeed a great gift to be able to “waste time” with God in discernment. Entering the seminary has been, thus far, one of the best (though not easiest) decisions of my life. Leaving it will be tough as well, but I believe it to be the right decision (despite my own fears and preoccupations). I am and will remain thankful for the rest of my life for this opportunity; like I said earlier, God does not forget a prayer, even if it doesn’t come about like you would want or imagine. He has taught me a lot in my time here (imagine the possibilities if I weren’t so hard-headed ;), and I now go back from whence I came to continue to “waste time” with God, and to see what lies in store for me in the future. In gratitude to Him, I will go about “being who I be” as His child, striving to live my life to its fullest in (and because of) Him Who loves me.

May we keep our focus on that Love which embraces us at all times as we strive to enter into that Kingdom which has no end.

Please pray for me during my transition, especially that I may be protected from the “snares of the devil.” If you would like to talk to me about any of this or would like me to pray for you, simply ask. I will pray for all of you.

God bless.

Boy, did I enjoy researching for and writing this paper. It has been a couple of years since I’ve looked at it, so don’t expect me to remember the whole argument, but I can tell you the reasoning for wanting to write this paper. It was because of all of the thoughtless (but emotional) comments that I had constantly heard brought up against the Church about the Crusades. “Oh, the Church is evil because She started the Crusades,” etc., etc., etc. And, thanks to a CD set by Matthew Arnold (of St. Joseph Communications) and mainly the work of (the brilliant historian) Hilaire Belloc, I set off to learn about the Crusades and to challenge the “argument.”

This was written while taking Bachelor’s classes at Our Lady of Holy Cross College for History of Western Civilization I.

This is an interesting one. My sociology professor makes the class watch the American classic: The Birdcage with Robin Williams and then makes us write a paper giving a “universal definition” of marriage. After having thought seriously about how I was to approach this paper, this is what resulted.

When I run across my paperwork for this class, I will take the time to write out the actual questions that I was asked to answer.

This was written while taking Bachelor’s classes at Our Lady of Holy Cross College for Introduction to Sociology.

To summarize, if I can remember it well enough myself: there has been a reversal in the “thrust” of modern man, a thrust towards work for work’s sake, to the point that all that is worthy in all aspects of life is work and there is now an almost impossibility for modern man to be at rest (in any sense of the word) – which is what the natural “thrust” is for him, anyway.

And so, I search for what it means to be at leisure, and how it is that man is truly to be at leisure: which (as you will see if you read it) is almost to my surprise that man finds true leisure only when his gaze is fixed on God. It is this – and this only – which allows man the opportunity to truly be at peace, and, consequently, at leisure, in his life.

This is probably my favorite paper which I have written since having been at NDS, both in content and in discovery.

This was written in my second semester of theology at Notre Dame Seminary for Foundations of Moral Theology II.

This was a paper that I wrote in order to discover the means at our disposal in order to properly deal with the emotions that we all experience. Specifically, it is written to discover in what ways we can properly order the emotions, so that they don’t run our lives and control our actions. With virtue lived in our lives, it is possible to overcome the very common (in our day) situation of “emoting”, and placing the emotions in their proper position in our lives: as “informants” or “guides” (but not as infallible ones) to the decision made by our intellect and the consequent action that is taken. Doing so allows us to act as we were intended to act; to have our emotions in their proper place allows us to be more well-ordered persons, whose actions are more fluidly made when “all things are in their proper place, performing their proper function.”

This was written in my first semester of theology at Notre Dame Seminary for Foundations of Moral Theology I.

Also, if you’re interested in seeing videos, I’ve posted some here: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5075939325362925205&hl=en. After that one is finished, look at the top right for something that says “More from this user”. Click it and there should be 17 other videos that I posted of my trip there.

Sorry for taking so long to shoot off my first update, but for those who know me, this isn’t a surprise ;). And now I don’t know where to begin.

I’ve been here in Querétaro for 3 weeks, and have seen many new and beautiful things, studied Spanish, finished reading a biography (at least one person receiving this will be happy to know that ;), and have gotten to know some new people.

I have traveled, besides around the city of Querétaro (in the state of Querétaro): to Bernal, the third largest rock (not mountain, but rock) in the world; San Miguel Allende, home of (one of?) the only Gothic church(es) in Mexico, also of some Hollywood-types looking for a retreat, and, last but not least, the home of “los padres de mi madre mexicano” (my mexican mother’s parents), who own a gorgeous ranch with 5 or 6 swimming pools that all fill up daily with fresh, warm water from down under; and today, I just got back from the Sierra Gorda, an enormous and magnificent piece of the world which is the home of the first mission churches started by Junipero Serra in Mexico (before he made his way up to what is now the California coast). The bus trip took about 5 hours from Querétaro to the first mission (Jalpan), and boy is it a dizzying trip. Imagine the worst curves of Hwy 1 on the coast of California stretched out over many mountains and for about 3 hours – and you may have an idea of how many people took Dramamine to make it through the bus rides. It is a very beautiful place though. There are many huge mountains which are covered with trees and clouds. To give an idea of how tall these mountains were, we stopped at a gas station for a break before we got to the dizzying mountain curves and me and Vincent were questioning which was hotter at that time, Alabama or this piece of Mexico in the desert (I voted Alabama, for what it’s worth). About an hour later, we’re at one of the highest points that the bus is able to stop at, and we get out to find out that it’s quite chilly outside. ??? Whatever though – it was a welcome change. The air was quite brisk, very clean, and very refreshing to breathe (unlike downtown Querétaro with its skinny streets and many cars – if you happen to run across a diving kit [simply the tank, the tube, and the breather-thing will do], please ship it to me soon. I fear I’m going to die by inhaling too much of the car fumes as if I were in a garage hanging out with the engine running, ahem, ring any bells, _______? ;).

So, the place is really old and really great and really beautiful (save the “Rio de Querétaro,” which is a different beast altogether) – I’m really fortunate to be able to be here and see these new places and meet these new people. But, “How’s Kevin?”, you may ask. Well, Kevin is fine.

The end,
Kevin

Haha. That would be a funny ending, but not satisfying for at least a few of you, so I will try to be a bit more verbose.

I’m doing well, I believe. Still hanging in there with discernment, still wondering just what it is that God wants of me, and what day I will be able to mark on my calendar that He will give me at least a 95% “for sure” or “not for sure” type answer. I’m still waiting, it seems ;). I hear thunder, so I’d better stop there. Such is discernment. Other than discernment, I’ve just been doing a decent amount of studying, a tinier amount of (personal) reading, and another decent amount of getting to know mi familia mexicano (oh yes, and a whole lot of walking). The classes and teachers here are great, the program is relaxed and, I think, is a very good program – there are actually teachers in the world who don’t want to kill their students with work or scare them with the consequences of those mean old “grades.” I’m floating a little bit.

And, finally, I would like to introduce you to mi familia mexicano. First is Mariano. Mariano is a 32 year old native of Querétaro who has lived in America and Canada, but has been back home for several years. He now works for PeMex (the government-run…the only type of gas station in Mexico) doing, from what I can divine (with my Mexican understanding powers), designs for plants and stations. Prior to this he worked for Bombardier, building planes, and in America, was a mechanic. But, just a moment ladies. Before you get too “dreamy” with this fantastically painted portrait of Mariano, I would like to introduce you to his wife, yes, his wife, Edith (pronounced ay-deeth). Edith, like her husband (just making sure), is 32 years old and is currently about 6 months away from being a certified beautician-like-person. She studies just across the street from where I do at some place that I can’t remember the name of – but, I do know that she’s going to cut hair, do make-up, and nails (both hand- and, mmpf, one second, this one is tough for me to handle, toe-nails – bleh … nothin’ but love for those who mess with toes ;). And, swiftly moving from that picture, we move to Mariana, the 5 year old daughter of the Mariano and Edith. Mariana just finished “kinder” last week and will be moving on to a different school (primeria, pienso [primary, i think]) next month. She is a cute little girl that acts like most other 5 year olds that I know (and even some adults – ooooooh…OK, OK, maybe my puns are getting a little too strong – I’ll calm down a little … some other time). She likes to watch, sing, and dance with Discovery Kids, loves muñecas (I could very possibly have spelled that wrong – I … :( … lost my dictionary. OK, so, muñecas are otherwise known as the sophisticated English word, “dolls”), listens ¼ of the time, and (get prepared for this one), occasionally pulls the dog’s ears too hard, which makes the dog cry, and (this astounded me the first time I heard it) provokes a response from Edith which is something like, “Mariana, no molestas la perra.” I soon grew accustomed to the word “molestar” being commonplace for what we would translate as “irritate” or “aggravate” or “mess with”. Ahh, the intricacies of languages. And, since I mentioned her, I will introduce the final member of the family, Chickies. Chickies is a somewhat sweet and somewhat aggravating half-Chihuahua, half-some-other-kind-of dog that loves to have her belly rubbed and to take things out of the trash can. She is black, white, brown, big for a Chihuahua, and constantly jumps on your leg when you’re sitting, and sometimes, if she’s excited, when you’re standing.

And, to sum them up: they’re a really sweet family who give a lot of themselves to me, their niño americano, especially in conversation (which is sometimes a long and arduous process).

OK. So now, I’ve rambled on for long enough and it’s about time that I hit the bed (it’s now 10:05p, Sunday).

Everyone take care and I will try to make another update sometime. But don’t expect speed – it’s not my style ;).

May we keep our eyes on the Lord,

Kevin

(P.S. this started as an e-mail on Sunday, 29th of June, but I decided it would be better to post here instead)

For years now, one of my favorite authors is the late, great, G.K. Chesterton – a man who wrote more than I could possibly fathom writing. As a newspaper journalist, Chesterton wrote somewhere in the neighborhood of 11,000 articles for various publications throughout his life. I have yet to read most of his numerous articles, books, poetry, etc., but I have made may way through (in some form or another) a few of his works and am currently enjoying Joseph Pearce’s biography of Chesterton, Wisdom and Innocence: A Life of G.K. Chesterton. I am just past the halfway point in this near 500-page book, and am increasingly in awe at his utter simplicity in life, whether it be his relationship with children, the romance with his wife, the sincere way in which he approaches thought and dialogue, his complete firmness in what he himself believes through much effort of searching and finding, and, I believe, most importantly, the way in which the discoveries of his tireless searching were not merely for some sort of intellectual gratification (alone), rather these discoveries were reached and then lived by him. Of all the many quotes from his contemporaries that I have seen so far in this biography of Chesterton, one of the most familiar type is that of his being a magnanimous character (and not only in size, although it seems that his enormous stature was quite the illustration of the man he was): a man who lives what he believes.

So if this post is about the elusiveness of writing, then why did I just write a paragraph about Chesterton, and not about not writing?

The topic of the slipperiness of writing is very much involved with the persona of Chesterton. For Chesterton was a man of deep, incisive, penetrating thought. And he did not keep these thoughts to himself. He articulated these thoughts to himself and to others, in his (and their) quest for the truth of things (indeed, the Truth of things) and brought these very thoughts to the masses through his many and various writings. Chesterton could very well have been one to run about his daily life, without ever questioning or examining, without ever wondering or searching, and, really, without ever articulating his perspective of the same reality which we all experience. But then, who would Chesterton be? He simply would be a disappearing memory, whose name would only be recognized by those who he would have known in his life in England in the 1900′s: relatives, friends, colleagues, etc. Not that that is at all a negative place to be, for God knows many of the greatest souls to ever walk this earth are just that. But Chesterton had a gift, and this gift did not go unused, this talent not buried. And the gift was his simplicity (or, as Pearce says, his innocence).

For what could be a greater cause of duplicity than being inarticulate? To wander about one’s daily life, unexamined, unquestioned, unaided by articulation of thought; what is the purpose of it? As the country song goes, “you’ve got to stand for something, or you’ll fall for anything.” “Falling for anything” is another way of saying duplicitous, for if one is not at all grounded in his articulation, his way of expressing reality, then he can’t help but be thrown about in every possible direction by passing fads and rootless opinions of others. This makes one duplicitous because he’s not simple in accepting, in appreciating, and in interpreting reality, the truth, for himself. So he walks around, amidst all sorts of noise, never questioning, never understanding, never able to explain why certain things happen, why they happen in certain ways, never able to appreciate life in its depths because he’s completely caught up in its superficialities: the colors, the sounds, the movements, the passions, the new this and the new that – all tangled up in a big blur which he calls life. If only he would stop and question, stop and appreciate. What do these things which I experience mean? Do they point to anything other than themselves? Why is the rose beautiful? Why a sunset? Why are the leaves of trees so abundantly green and so precisely beautiful in their composition? Could I tell you the difference between the sunset today from the sunset yesterday? Do I appreciate (in some form) the similarity or difference between the two?

If one doesn’t ask questions, if one doesn’t appreciate … then what is life? What is life but a blur of fading and intertwining memories mixed with continual sensual experience, never pondered, never questioned, never appreciated? “Life” is lifeless – “life” has no soul; it is a dead person watching life stream before his eyes, but never partaking of it. For what else brings the seemingly endless influx of experiences together and gives them meaning more than expressing (as opposed to simply riding the emotional “flow”) what life means? It brings order to the chaos; and from the order springs a symphony: taking many and varied objects and experiences, and utilizing them in tandem to create something beautiful, something more than that which is capable with each of the things on their own. It brings life to life.