Back to Franciscan... for a weekend

So I rediscovered my blog (how many times can I do that in the course of a couple years?) and I never did finish that "What I Learned" series. Yeah, taking a couple Master's classes AND trying to keep a blog going are nearly impossible. Well, lesson learned.

Now I'm ordained a priest. And I'm once-again thinking that I might post here. But we'll see. For now, I'm off to Franciscan-- AGAIN-- but this time as a graduate; I'm attending the St. John Bosco catechetical conference. Should be a lot of fun, re-union-like, and a great refresher.

See you all on the other side!

This is What I Learned (Day 4 of 20)

Both of my graduate classes this summer have been talking about the collaboration of the lay faithful and priests, and the identities and roles of both. Hence my posting previously on "Christifideles Laici" (found here). There's a lot of things which both you and I should be doing in the Church today.

But there's also a lot of things that we shouldn't be doing. For example, acting as priests when we're not priests (or, on the flip side of the coin: acting as laity when we're not laity). To understand this better, my professor, Father Frederick Miller-- whose reputation continues to grow in leaps and bounds-- recommended that we read a sermon of the soon-to-be-beatified Cardinal John Henry Newman: "The Gainsaying of Koreh." (read it here).

If you have ten minutes, do check it out. It will give you a mental workout, but it is worth it if you take the effort to follow his argument. It's really quite brilliant and, by the end, you'll find yourself leaning back in your chair, looking up at the ceiling, and going "Wow!"

Well, at least, that's what I did.

This is What I Learned (Day 3 of 20)

So it's actually Day 8 or something, but class, readings, and thesis writing have kept me occupied. Nevertheless, I am going to continue to post a full twenty. There is so much I'm learning out here at Franciscan, it would be unfortunate if I didn't share it!

Over the weekend, I tore through what amounts to probably one of my top-five favorite Pope John Paul II writings. (And for the record, you are officially a Catholic Dork if you have a top-five favorite of anything Catholic. Be not afraid, that's a good thing!). Anyway, what I've been reading is "Christifideles Laici"-- The Lay Members of Christ's Faithful People. For those keeping score at home, that means you. This document is all about you. And I love it! You should pick it up sometime and read about you. :)

All throughout the document, you get beautiful nuggets like this:

"The vocation to holiness must be recognized and lived by the lay faithful, first of all as an undeniable and demanding obligation and as a shining example of the infinite love of the Father that has regenerated them in his own life of holiness."

I mean, wow! Beautiful and challenging. How often do you hear in a homily that you have a vocation to holiness-- and that it is a demanding obligation. Obligation?!?! That's pretty tough. And what does this vocation to holiness look like?

It will be mystical. Not in the apparition-visionary-levitating off the ground kind of way, but in the "my heart is united to My Savior's Heart" kind of way. As that happens, as you grow in union with the Father through Christ by the Holy Spirit, the newness and the power of the Gospel will shine forth from you. In fact,

"The lay faithful are also called to allow the newness and the power of the Gospel to shine out everyday in their family and social life, as well as to express patiently and courageously in the contradictions of the present age their hope of future glory even through the frameowrk of their secular life" (14).

Does that just not fire you up? I wish I could teach this entire document to you!

And if that is not enough, so many of the teachings are so very timely. Take for example this passage-- written in 1988-- which could be so easily applied to today's political climate in the US:

"... charity, realized not only by individuals but also in a joint way by groups and communities, is and will always be necessary. Nothing and no one will be able to substitute for it, not even the multiplicity of institutions and public initiatives forced to give a response to the needs-- oftentime today so serious and widespread-- of entire populations. Paradoxically such charity is made increasingly necessary the more that institutions become complex in their organization and pretend to manage every area at hand. In the end such projects lose their effectiveness as a result of an impersonal functionalism, an overgrown bureaucracy, unjust private interests and an all-too-easy and generalized disengagement from a sense of duty." (41) - emphasis mine.

Am I the only one here taken aback by this passage? I mean, it looks like Pope John Paul II has called out big government. And not only that, he has also called out all of us who fail to be charitable during such times. It is precisely in these moments, my brothers and sisters, that we should be giving.

And you can give-- and must give-- because of your dignity:

"Let us rejoice and give thanks; we have not only become Christians but Christ himself... Stand in awe and rejoice, we have become Christ." (St. Augustine, quoted in Christifideles Laici).

What I learned today: this needs to be taught more.

This is What I Learned (Day 2 of 20)

In class we've been talking about teaching adults in a parish-- how to do it, what to look for, pitfalls to avoid, etc etc. And we were talking about how it is so easy for us Catholics-- me included-- to get wrapped up in the culture and the language and the philosophy of the time, and to forget subtleties of the faith and its language and the Truth about reality. For example, there are so many social programs which talk about people and "people coming together" and "we're here to help people" and so on. Religious textbooks talk about African people and Asian people and us Americans in our Bill of Rights talk about "We the People." And that's interesting, because as Catholics we're always talking about "persons." In fact, this word, "persons" is disappearing from common parlance.

And for many, this really doesn't matter. Who cares? Well, with this disappearance of a word goes the disappearance of something more foundational. What, you ask?

At the very heart of the Catholic faith is the word, "Person." Three to be exact. The Persons of the Trinity. It's not The People of the Trinity, but Persons. "Person," bespeaks an identity, a reality all its own. Uniqueness, specialty, distinction, dignity.

Ok, so why does that matter?

Because you are a person. That word is the same word which is used when speaking about the Trinity. That's not an accident. Nor is it mere analogy. And this is where the subtlety comes in.

People say: God really isn't a person... He's... the unknowable God. We're the persons and we're just trying to understand who God is.

Actually, turn that puzzle piece over.

God is a Person-- three Persons And we are made in His image. Thus, we are persons after Him. To say that we are "persons" is to directly and distinctly acknowledge our origin: namely, in God Himself. And that He is first. HE is the first Persons. We are analogous to Him.

Shattered worldview, anyone?


And so I asked Sr. Johanna, my prof, "Ok, so we're Catholics and we're praying and we're going to Mass and receiving the Sacraments... yet it's so easy for us to get swept away. To forget Truth and everything. How do we avoid falling away?

"Think."

That's what she said. Catholic's must think. And here's what she meant by that. Right now, we're very used to being entertained. Our nation is very passive in that sense. We want things to come to us-- and easily. And it has to be quick, immediate. But these things do not give us practice in the art-- yes, ART-- of thinking. To think, we must sit down, take a moment, and actually do some hard work, mulling over outcomes and possibilities and results and congruency. "Does it work?" and "Is it true?" and "What does it mean?" are all question which take time and effort to answer.

But when was the last time we listened to a song or watched a movie and really, really thought about its message and whether or not-- and why or why not-- it corresponded to Truth? Even more is avoided the question: "How does it apply to my life?"

And that's a problem. At the present moment the United States is facing a huge gluttony problem. Not of food. But of "Experience." All we do is experience. We go places, we do things, we see people, we watch TV, we work-- it's all experience. And that's well and good. But if we don't think about where we are going, what we're doing, the people we're seeing, the TV we're watching, and the work we're slaving over-- if we don't stop and reflect on whether or not they connect, or whether or not they are good, or whether or not they correspond to Truth-- if we don't think, then we will never grow in Wisdom. Things won't make sense. Life will just be a bunch of puzzle pieces scattered on the floor-- isolated, unfulfilled, and brown.

Puzzle pieces bottom-side up.


What I learned today: When we watch a movie or listen to a song.... when we read about the faith or encounter a troubling issue in the world.... whatever it is, we should be talking with others about it. Especially with God. And you get a good two-for-one deal here as well: not only will you grow in wisdom, but your isolation and loneliness will start to disappear!

This Is What I Learned: Day 1 of 20

Quick background: I'm at Franciscan University and this is my journal from years' past. I've written in it during various out-of-town adventures. Some pretty cool memories here (Pope John Paul II's funeral, B16's election, playing Fronton in Mexico City, to name a few). This is my last semester at Steubenville and I thought it'd be a good time to write a few entries during my stay here-- if not for your edification, then at least for my sanity.

Over the next 20 days, I am living at the Visitation House for priests-- and the house is empty for the next week. I haven't been by myself in quite a while, so I have been taken back to my years in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where I lived in an apartment by myself. Biggest adjustment: plotting out what I'm going to eat for the week, going to the store and getting it, and then cooking it at home. Sounds silly, but I haven't had to do that in a long time. Even at the rectories in the past, things were always available around the house. Here, everything is empty. It's like I'm back on my own again....

The house was built in 1906 and I don't think it's been updated since. It's endearing in a way: the oak door frames, the heavy feel as you pull them open, the large front porch which leads to other homes' large front porches with rocking chairs and tables and, on most summer nights, people enjoying the quiet streets from porch or street. It's a different pace and the senses come alive:

Kids are laughing outside. Birds are chirping. Even the smell of the house-- they bring back memories of my first home in Steubenville on Oregon Ave: my room with the beige carpeting like the back of a Bichon Frise, the afternoon sun warming the white plaster walls, an occasional refreshing breeze blowing through sheer, yellow curtains and making the red Gerber daisies on my bookshelves dance. The bed has sheets only, the architectural desk faces the corner, the day's books are on the floor, and I walk around in white socks. I remember it idyllically and care not to remember the long, sometimes agonizing and lonely nights of study: both of the Faith and of my Self: I was awakening. Catechesi Tradendae entered into my world and with it, The Story. Pieces were coming together like tumblers in a lock and I started to see-- really, really see-- for the first time. Hence the name of this blog.

There are many other memories from that Fall Semester which easily stem from the memories derived from this homey smell. There are so many! Five-fifteen Mass at St. Peter's and the confessional doors that hiss as you disappear into a paradoxically safe yet deathy coffin-like space. The canniloni I had made, only to have its red, saucy, and tubular goodness fall to the carpeted-- yes, carpeted-- kitchen floor. The Japenese beetles which plagued my bedroom's windows, and Mary Oborny who would leave scripture verses on note cards atop my work-- neither of which, beetles or Mary, are related, but which nevertheless in memory go together. The wonderful, sleepy hills meandering the Steel Valley near West Virginia-- I could go for a drive there and get lost among them for hours. Yes, memory can be a good thing.

As the calm breeze lightly teases these sheer curtains, like veils once more in my room, I am thankful for this simple little gift of memory. What a shame if we couldn't remember, because of a defect of the mind or never having seen anything beautiful and good. And worse: if we had never taken the time to do so.

What I learned today: every once in a while take 15 minutes to remember with gratitude something good. (I think when I return to the seminary, I'm going to get a pot of Gerber daisies for my windowsill....)

This is Back on the Road Again

Well, I'm back to blogging again, which can only mean one thing: I'm traveling. As of May 29th, I'm headed to Steubenville, Ohio, to continue work on my Masters Degree. Then, near the end of June, I'll be in Colorado with The Bro, only to return to Steubenville for the rest of July. On August 1st, I'll be back in St. Louis where I will resume work towards becoming a priest to be ordained in May of 2011.

For those who are new to this blog, I have journal-ed quite a bit (235 posts!!!) since 2005-- journal-ed about my travels to Rome in the Spring of 2005, my entrance to the seminary in 2006, my studying in Mexico City in 2008..... I hope you enjoy the posts. Check back every now and then, as I will post about things going on in my life.

I pray you are all well. You have my love.

~Anthony

This is Homeward Bound

Well, I am on my way home. Haven't had much time to blog the last few days, what with pastoral activities, social engagements, and a final exam mixed in. I still have quite a few amazing pictures and stories to share. I will do that off and on over the course of... well... I don't know. For now, all I know is that: it is late; I am going home; on Sunday, I am heading to Wisconsin for a retreat with former-St. Louis bishop Burke; and then to Colorado for some much-needed "me" time; concluded with the start of my pastoral assignment, a wedding, and other various assundry items. Ok, I'm rambling now. That means I'm tired. Dios te bendiga!

This is a Mexican Birthday

One last post before returning to St. Louis.... This comes from Tim's birthday a couple weeks back (yeah, I'm way behind on my blogging). Anyway, it was an awesome surprise-- not only for Tim, but for the whole household. You see, our wonderful "mothers" (you know who you are!), acquired a piñata for Tim's birthday. We also had some AMAZING cake on Spiderman plates with refreshments (like Dissarrono) in Spiderman cups. Our smiles were as big as the mountains surrounding the city. "Giddy," I think is the best word that describes it all.

Pictures will not do here. You must check out the video.

Really, there is nothing like giving Spiderman a thorough beat-down. Ha!