Out of Nothing

Today's readings come from Is 10:5-7, 13b-16; Ps 94:5-6, 7-8, 9-10, 14-15; and Mt 11:25-27

As I was reading Jesus' words in the gospel today about the Father's revelation of his love and power to the "childlike," I was reminded of an event that happened during my time at Sarnelli House.

It was a cold, rainy, foggy, miserable day in Kensington—one of those days where you need only step outside and the cold penetrates right to your bones. It was a Tuesday, and on Tuesdays we would always let our guests from the streets come in to take a shower, get new underclothes, and whatever other types of clothing they might need. As our guests were filing in that Tuesday, though, I remember thinking to myself, "Y'know, I have to wonder why God allows this. I think if it were me out there in weather like this, I would just have to say to God, 'Take me… take me now, this just isn't worth it.'" As we prayed with our guests, the way we always began anything we did at Sarnelli House, Dennis, crippled years earlier when a bus had run over him, got up on his crutches to say, "I just want to thank the Lord for waking me up this morning and giving me another day of life." I knew that the best accommodations he had found the night before were probably a cardboard box. His prayer hit me like few other epiphanies ever have. He got it… he, this homeless man from the streets where the Rocky movies were filmed, had an understanding of God's love and providential care that far outstripped mine, a college graduate with a BA in Religious Studies.

Again and again we see this theme echoed throughout scripture: God works with nothing. Out of nothing, God brings good. Out of weakness, God brings strength. Out of humility, God brings honor. Out of emptiness, God brings love. Out of ignorance and meekness, God brings wisdom. This is what we hear Jesus saying in the gospel today and it is what we hear in the irony of the passage from Isaiah.

Today, we commemorate the appearance of Our Lady on Mt. Carmel. I think that oftentimes in the language of Marian devotion we lose sight of the full significance of Mary's virginity. God brought forth a child from a virgin. This is the example par excellence of God's method of working through human beings, bringing wonders forth from what they lack. In Mary's example, we see that God does not need our "help," at least as far as our accomplishments go, so much as he needs our openness to him—our openness to allowing him to supply everything we lack on our own.

For today, then, let us give some thought to our own weakness, emptiness, foolishness, and so forth, and ask the Lord, who loves us with an undivided heart, to give us the grace to be more open to him so that he might work his wonders through us. Let us also think about those ways in which perhaps we are over-confident in our own abilities, or proud of our own accomplishments, and ask God to help us see in what ways the things we "have to offer" might actually be getting in the way of the work God longs to accomplish through what we lack.

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory Forever!

~J

Why Them? Why Me? Why us?

Today's readings come from Hosea 10:1-3, 7-8, 12; Psalm 105:2-7; and Matthew 10:1-7

It was just under a year ago that I was moving my things into the residence hall at Mundelein Seminary. Even though I had visited the campus twice before, this was my first opportunity to look at the little details. One of the things anyone notices once they start looking around is that the builders found a way to put a cross just about anywhere. They're on the doorknobs, the lampposts, the tops of the buildings, pretty much anywhere you look, basically. As joyously has I had received the Rite of Candidacy, and as happy as I was to be there with David and Michael, all I was saying to myself was, "What the *%&$# was I thinking to come here?! Let's see… I could probably get down to O'Hare pretty easily from here and jump a plane to… just about anywhere but here would do." Thankfully, I didn't run; I stayed and went through a period of adjustment during which God placed the right people in my life to say the right things at the right time.

One day, I was having a conversation with (now Father) Lance who lived across the hall from me. Lance was in his mid-late forties, had been and accountant, and at one time had even been the CFO of one the native tribes in Wisconsin. (Translation… high-powered job handling tens of millions of dollars.) We were discussing the questions that arise for a man as he goes throughout seminary formation: worthiness, feasibility, confusion, and so forth. He said to me,

Jay, I've become convinced that the Gospels are explicitly clear on these issues. Whenever I find myself asking the question, "Why am I here?" I remember the example of the apostles. Look at who Jesus picked to surround himself and carry out the mission of spreading the gospel: fisherman, laborers, a tax collector… not a single scribe or Pharisee among them. I'm sure that at the time, they had no idea why Jesus called them, but they persevered in a trust that they had some role to play in God's plan of salvation.

If you think about it, Jesus didn't say to Peter when he met him, "Come, follow me, I want you to be the head of the People of God in a new covenant that I am mediating between God and all of humanity." NO! I highly doubt that he would have gotten anywhere with that approach! All he said was, "Come, follow me." And Peter followed, putting one foot in front of the other, making mistakes, but eventually allowing God's plan for him to unfold over time.

We cannot know why it is that Christ chose those twelve men, including Judas, or why God chose Israel, or why the Spirit chooses us now. As we look at this week's readings from Hosea, it is abundantly clear that we all cause God no small amount of grief! Nevertheless, God has chosen us, and all he needs from us is our assent to put one foot in front of the other, following him each day until our role in his plan of salvation unfolds throughout our lives.

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory Forever!

~J

Portraits of Fear

Today's readings are from Amos 5:14-15, 21-24; Psalm 50:7-13, 16-17; and Matthew 8:28-34.

Between the first reading today and the Gospel, we get two different portraits of fear—one is of healthy, genuine fear of the Lord, the other is unhealthy, a fear of God's love and power. In the reading from Amos, Israel is exhorted very harshly to cease and desist its evil deeds, namely the gross social injustice which it had allowed to run rampant in its society. We see a God depicted who is extremely dissatisfied with the state of this fledgling nation that he had brought up out of Egypt. In his anger, which seems to be the dominant theme of this week's Old Testament readings from Amos, God is ready, willing, and able to discipline his people. Note well, however, that discipline is always an outgrowth of love, and we are told that it is indeed out of his love for Israel that God plans such discipline.

Then on the other hand, in today's gospel we see the Gadarenes (or Gerasenes, if you have a different translation) who cannot get Jesus out of their territory fast enough after he exorcises the two possessed men. Jesus manifests his divine power to dispel the forces of evil in an act of profound healing, yet the people's response is one of fear. It is very clearly not the response Jesus was hoping for, yet what we see in the first reading today is essentially an exhortation to be afraid of God's power. Are you confused yet?

The key to understanding these contraries, notice I do not say "contradictions," lies in understanding the nature of God's love for us. God's love for us is multi-faceted; it both includes and transcends friendship, romance, respect, and yes, parental love. In our attempts to relate to God, we cannot forget that all of these elements must be present since it is through all of these ways, and then some, that God extends his love to us.

I can remember quite vividly "The Spoon" from my childhood. Yes, the infamous tool of discipline that was placed conspicuously within my mother's reach whenever I was getting just a little too uppity. I knew all too well why it was there and how it would be used if my behavior didn't change. However, I also remember just as clearly the cuts, scrapes, and bruises that my mother cleaned, bandaged, and kissed and the profound sense of being loved that those actions brought with them. Now, as an adult, I can look back even on "The Spoon" and see how loving the discipline was that I received as well.

What we see in the Gadarenes today is a rejection of the all-encompassing, multi-faceted love of God, namely its power to dispel evil and to effect enormous, life-altering transformations. What we cannot fail to miss in their example is just how natural it is to have such an adverse reaction to Love and how Jesus exhibits understanding and patience in the face of such a rejection. God understands that we are in need of growth and that human growth takes time. Nevertheless, what we cannot fail to take away from the first reading is that growth is not optional. God expects us to use the blessings of his love, not to squander them, and we will be held accountable for our use, or disuse, of what God has freely given. In his love, he reaches out to us—to heal and to discipline.

So for today, let's pray about those areas of our life where we have been resistant to some aspect of God's love for us, and ask him for the grace to open our hearts more to the love he wants to give us.

Glory to Jesus Christ! Glory forever!

~J

Mundelein Music

Well, it took me a while to figure this one out, but I think I've finally come up with a way to put some music up on my blog. Hurray! Try right-clicking the blog title and opening the link in a new tab (or window). It should take you to the online storage site Box.net and give you the option to either download or stream the recording of the Mundelein Chant Schola doing the Pentecost Sequence. Let me know if it works for you!

~J

Judgment vs. Discernment

Whew! Ok, I can finally say that I have "arrived" at Our Lady of the Assumption Parish here in Latham, NY. Actually, I showed up on June 6^th, was here for a week, left for our Seminarians' Summer Gathering, and have been back for almost another week. Today, however, I gave my first reflection at the 9:00AM daily Mass. I have so much to share about what's been going on since the quarter ended out at Mundelein—I've been here, there, and everywhere—but I wanted to start right away with sharing my weekly reflections. (Fr. Burke and I have worked it out that I'll give a reflection every Wednesday at the daily Mass. I figure these will also make good blogs… and a chance for you to… um… give me feedback? Pretty please?) Anyhow, this week and into next week, our 1^st readings are taken from the 2^nd Book of Kings; we're getting to hear the saga of which kings were faithful and which kings were responsible for getting Israel and Judah carried off into exile. The gospel passages are from Matthew. Today, specifically, the readings were 2 Kings 22:8-13, 23:1-3; Psalm 119:33-40; and Matthew 7:15-20.

Today's psalm speaks about discernment, and I think that this is a very important theme running throughout these readings. Did anyone notice the tension between today's gospel telling us to beware of false prophets and Monday's gospel telling us not to judge one another? Or did you notice, back in Monday's first reading, that Israel is essentially led off into exile because it behaved in exactly the same way as the nations all around it, "whom the Lord had cleared out of the way of the children of Israel," only to hear in the gospel "Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye?" These readings all highlight the difference between judgment and discernment.

We certainly cannot pass judgment on anyone's relationship with God. We cannot know the state of a person's soul or the inmost dispositions of someone's heart. These things are the matter for God's final judgment and therefore are no cause for concern on our part beyond the obligations of charity. Nevertheless, we are called, in today's gospel, to exercise discernment when it comes to behaviors. We must judge right from wrong in people's actions and we would be stupid not to notice patterns. We must be on guard against the abuses of people who time and again behave selfishly, foolishly, angrily, faithlessly and so forth. That is, we must be on guard that we do not come to imitate their examples.

On the flip side of this, however, we must be aware at all times that people are watching us and judging our behaviors and drawing conclusions about us from what they see. Their judgments of our behaviors will reflect on the faith we profess. For instance, what message would it send if a daily "Mass-goer" were to be a total Scrooge when it came to finances? What if it were obvious that they never knew what it was to give a gift or send money to a charitable organization? Or, on the other hand, what if it was well-known that they were frivolous with their money, spending dollar after dollar on every silly little luxury but running out of funds for basic needs? In each of these extreme cases, we would see someone who doesn't really believe that they have a role in God's plan of salvation for others. Both, while in different ways, refuse to provide for others. What kind of faith does that show? Do we believe that irresponsibility is a good thing? Certainly not, but were we to behave this way, why should anyone think otherwise? The same goes for things like worry: worry too much and it shows that you don't trust in God's providence, get too fancy-free and people will think that you have no real care for the future. How could a worry-filled person inspire anyone to trust in God, and who in their right mind would listen to the exhortation to "Let go and let God" from someone who clearly wouldn't prepare for future problems anyhow? This type of thinking applies to just about any subject that touches on the virtues.

To sum it all up, we always need to be mindful both of whose examples we follow and the type of examples we set. Both are obligations of charity, the first to ourselves, the second to our neighbor.

Excursus: The Road to Priesthood

Well, April has been one wild ride out here at Mundelein! Most notably, we had our bus trip to St. Joseph's Seminary in New York to see… drum roll, please… THE POPE! Yeah, that's right, the successor of St. Peter, Chief of Apostles, here, in the flesh, on our own native soil. What an experience! What's more… I even have pictures! The problem, however, is that I can't get the pictures off my camera and onto my computer. The camera's driver software is not Vista compatible, and since upgrading to Vista, my card reader no longer works. Alas. So… I'm going to wait to blog on the Pope-trip, or Pope-Mania as one of our seminary professors took to calling it, until I can post with pics.

For now, I want to address some of the questions that were left in the comments to my last post which had to do with the process of becoming a priest. You know, I never cease to be surprised by how many people are unfamiliar with the process of becoming a priest. I meet several people, for instance, who think that seminarians are priests, or that it is a relatively quick process to become a priest. I suppose we can attribute these widespread misconceptions to the rarity of men answering God's call to the ordained priesthood in our times. It's just so rare for many Catholics to actually know a seminarian that I can understand why the process can seem so mysterious. Well, it's time to clear up the mystery!

Question 1: How long does it take to become a priest?

Answer: According to the current rules set out in the Program for Priestly Formation (PPF), the process requires two full years of a "Pre-Theology" program, or four years at a college seminary, and then four years in a "Theology" program at an approved Catholic major seminary. So, in the Unites States, where most dioceses and religious orders (if not all) require a bachelor's degree before they will sponsor a man at a major seminary, this all adds up to a minimum of four years beyond the Bachelor's degree (if coming from a college seminary) or six years after the Bachelor's if one needs to go through a "Pre-Theology" program. (That's my track, though I got grandfathered in under older requirements so it will only work out to five years beyond the Bachelor's.)

What is entailed in these two programs? Well, here's the simple version. The PPF outlines four areas of formation: human, spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral. Human formation focuses on helping a man to form himself into a healthy, celibate, sociable, respectable, wholesome leader (in a nutshell). Spiritual formation then seeks to help that man ground himself in a life of prayer so that he will become ever more conformed to the person of Jesus Christ as head and shepherd in whose name he will do all of his ministry. Intellectual formation strives to prepare men to be effective teachers and preachers of God's Word—teachers who know the Christian Tradition well enough to help the Church discern what it can use to spread the Gospel and what it cannot. Finally, pastoral formation has as its goal showing a man how to take the fruits of the other three areas and use them successfully in ministry to the People of God. Essentially, these four "pillars" of formation determine the content of all programs at a college seminary, a pre-theology program, or a major seminary. The main difference would be the proportions in which these various elements are combined and their particular focuses. Generally, pre-theology focuses on philosophy whereas theology focuses on… theology… go figure! Human formation at the pre-theology level focuses on discernment, developing a prayer life, and getting a man used to being a public figure. At the theology level, this is continued, though with more intense and specific expectations.

Question 2: When will you be ordained?

Answer: Well, if all goes according to plan, I will be ordained a transitional deacon in May of 2010 and a priest of Jesus Christ in June of 2011.

Question 3: What if you change your mind? Can you back out?

Answer: Yes. to put it frankly. A man can leave his formation program at any point before his diaconal ordination. However, along the way, one receives the Rite of Candidacy which can be understood as a public commitment to devote oneself fully to the formation for these Holy Orders of Deacon and Priest. (It is very much like the commitment involved when one gets engaged.) After that, one may still leave, but it is generally expected that one's discernment of his vocation should be quite certain before he receives candidacy, as well as his superiors' discernment of his fitness for these orders.

Question 4: How could you tell this is what you wanted to do and when did you know?

Answer: To be honest, my discernment process took a really long time; it's been something I've thought about since I was a little boy. In fact, I really could do several posts on the discernment process alone, and will do so if there's enough interest. To make a long story short, though, I would say there are two necessary components to discernment, for anything, not just the priesthood: prayer and consultation. First of all, as Christians, we are all called to be men and women of prayer. In prayer, we must lay ourselves at the Lord's feet and say, "your will be done," with sweet abandon. Then, we need to shut up and listen to the movements of the Holy Spirit within the depths of our hearts. As one priest said to me, "Ask the Lord what he wants you to do, and he'll tell ya." That was some of the best advice anyone has ever given me. Then, we cannot allow our spiritual lives to become a closed conversation between us and God. Just about everything God gives to us in prayer, like all of the blessings he gives us, are meant to be shared with others. In the discernment of one's vocation, this looks like trying out different forms of ministry and listening closely to the feedback people give you. For me, I have almost always had people telling me that I should become a priest, that I would make a good priest, and so forth. As one of our professors here summarizes it, "Your vocation is from God, but who gets to say that you're really called by God? The Church." It's easy to see the common sense of this. I might have all the desire in the world to be a priest, but if when I give scripture reflections, or try to counsel people and they fall asleep in boredom or invariably get horribly offended or confused… the chances are my call is not authentic. God always supplies the grace needed to answer his call. If the gifts just aren't there… most likely the call isn't there either.

For me, I was not able to make the decision to apply to my diocese until two years after finishing college. I was volunteering full-time with the Redemptorists in inner-city Philadelphia working with the homeless and prisoners. My time there was steeped in communal prayer, service, and the constant review and correction that comes from living in a healthy community. I also had a spiritual director who helped me to ask God the right questions in my prayer and to understand the answers I was receiving. After getting a taste of social work, teaching, counseling and apostolic work, I could see that I valued elements of all these things, but couldn't see myself doing only one of them as my "day-job." On top of that, I began to notice how unique my appreciation for the liturgy and my enjoyment of leading the community in prayer really was. When I put all of these elements together, along with what I had recognized as an inexplicable "leaning" toward the priesthood, I knew I had to take a closer look and become a seminarian.

I hope this clears up some questions, but if there are more, don't hesitate to ask!

Until next time, God Bless!

~J

Oh, and by the way…

When I set up this blog, I was hoping that it would serve three purposes: 1) It would eliminate the need for my periodic "newsletter e-mail" to my friends and family telling them how things were going, 2) It would provide an easy method of explaining to those discerning their vocation what a seminarian's life is really like through my posts talking about what was on my mind, and 3) It would provide a fast, easy way to answer people's questions about the Church, my life as a seminarian, etc. So far, it seems to be serving my first two purposes well. If you've been a regular reader… and I mean regular in the loosest sense of the word… you will have noticed, and probably will have remarked to me, that I need to post more frequently and regularly. Well, you're not wrong, but I need your help! Please, don't be afraid to leave comments on my posts, or ask for clarification. Don't hesitate to e-mail me with questions you'd like me to answer in my posts. I would appreciate it greatly if you would tell me the types of things you want to read about. I am busy here at Mundelein, but usually the reason I don't post is because I simply can't make up my mind to blog about. So, make up my mind for me! Don't be scared!

On another front… I've been working with my Spanish conversation partner, Angel Delfin from the Diocese of Kansas City-St. Joseph on creating a Spanish version of my blog. If all goes well, it should be up in a couple of weeks. Keep your fingers crossed.